Sanity
by moomolie1709
Summary: Luna never took the taunting to heart, she didn't believe them when they called her mad. But maybe they were right, because how could anyone sane love a monster?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: My first Harry Potter story, Draco/Luna. I hope you enjoy!**  
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**Chapter 1**

Draco Malfoy had been watching her for years now, and she had transformed before his eyes.

She had been the optimistic, albeit strange girl that danced through the halls of Hogwarts with long blond hair billowing behind her whimsical figure. The impact she had on him during their early years was profound. No one, least of all himself, could have begun to comprehend just how fond a boy as staid and distant as him would grow of someone like her.

She had once foolishly given him the blind and naive trust she thought everyone deserved. Those wide wondrous blue eyes that had refused to judge him had been determined to understand the real Slytherin Prince.

But what he saw now was a broken reflection of what had been. And her wand, the one he taught her how to properly harness, was now pressed threateningly against his throat. Her childlike orbs now looked on at him with absolute disdain.

The tears welled as she stared unblinking slid down on delicate pale cheeks, her quivering pink lips biting back an agonizing cry. The feelings of betrayal swelled in her chest, constricting her lungs, effectively making it impossible to breathe.

War was never kind, and they found themselves on opposing sides. Clashes between their contrasting beliefs and intensities were inevitable, and left their strong bond in shambles.

Luna thought she knew him, she thought he would never turn his hand against her. Everyone warned her about the selfish Malfoy heir, but she didn't believe them. She felt a connection with him that told her he was different. She was wrong. She put too much faith in angry, evil boy who never learned how to love.

"How could you?" her voice cracked, more water escaping from her eyes as she shut them tightly. Just looking at him made her stomach twist in disgust._ "Monster,"_

The innocence he treasured and nurtured in her before had been violently ripped away, she looked so lost without it. Despite her long period of absence, his hand still raised slowly out of habit. He gently brought his hand to cup the side of her face, fingers gingerly brushing away her fallen tears.

Her eyelids flung open at his touch, and the tip of wand dug uncomfortably to his Adam's apple, yet he continued to caress her visage, completely unphased. She couldn't see it, but her gesture didn't please him in the slightest.

Seeing her after so long had left him in a trance, easily allowing her to pin him to the wall. She acted recklessly,he was stronger than she could ever dream to become, it wouldn't take much for him to overpower her. Even if all it took was a spell to strike him down, she would never be able to do it. And he knew it.

His heart ached at the sight of her pain, but he reminded himself, he had changed too. Before she could fight back, Draco's arms flashed forward and reversed their positions, pushing her up against the chilling stone surface and disarming her in one swift movement.

He wasn't the same terrified and pathetic child of sixteen, freshly branded with the Dark Mark. The sign still burned on his inner forearm, it was a part of him now. He had proven his allegiance to the Dark Lord himself, he was revered a hero among the new world. He was a matured Death Eater, and a bloody dangerous one at that. While the wizarding world had been thrown into instability and chaos, his life was steady with promise. Only one case of business remained unfinished.

The action was aggressive, but then turned entirely intimate. Their bodies pressed so close together, he leaned in further so his forehead rested right above hers. He didn't remember her being so small or fragile.

She was resisting him, he could feel her struggling against his grasp. She began shrugging him off, her hands on his chest, but only half-heartedly. In truth, she was equally as intoxicated by his presence, she didn't want to break physical contact.

She couldn't bring herself to tell him off, so she instead turned her head, avoiding his gaze. She played this moment on in her head countless times before. she was supposed to be strong, she was supposed to resist, she was supposed to avenge. But here she was, like melted honey all over again.

"Not happy to see me, Lovegood?" his words slid out smooth, she could hear his lips turning up into its wicked smirk. He was always cruel to her, that would never be different. He didn't know what he was waiting for, or why he had ordered her there.

He kept to himself, a private man, so he didn't understand how others knew of his deep attachment to the beautiful blond. Most people though he had cut himself away from his past. But he should've known better than to assume his dear aunt wouldn't interfere. Bellatrix loved to make him tick, so she did the one thing she knew would sent her nephew up the wall.

Bellatrix brought a new trophy to the Malfoy Manor. Adorned with handcuffs and chains, the broken prize was paraded around his home. Prisoners were no anomaly in his life now, countless had been condemned in their treason during the war. He sometimes thought of how he would react if he saw Longbottom or Weasely being led around in links of metal, and laughed at their expense. He never liked them, found them absolutely insufferable.

But Draco did like Luna, and when he saw her bruised, wounded, and rake thin stumbling through his own home, he lost his calm. He barely spared a moment to apprehend Bellatrix, he was too preoccupied with the flaxen haired fairy on the verge of passing out. He never imagined Luna to be the fighting type in the field, at risk in the dangerous crossfire. He never thought she would end up in his possession again.

He naturally swept her limp form up into his arms and took her back to his private quarters. He left for less than an hour before he returned, only to be greeted by her new hostility.

"Look at me," he commanded, he didn't like it when she wasn't making eye contact. When she refused to comply, he took her chin with one hand and roughly forced it up to meet him. She was hollow, a far cry from the bright cheery Ravenclaw she was known to be.

He couldn't stop himself from drinking in her appearance one more time. Disheveled hair, dirt smeared complexion, ripped rags, she was still breathtaking. He preferred her healthy glow to the way she looked now, but no one could compare. Through the time they spent apart, Draco had been offered a sturdy number of advances, but he refused them all. No one reached his standard, despite the great lengths the resorted to. Somehow, Luna had effortlessly captured him all over again.

Her heart beat out of control, striking her rib cage with each hit. She felt as if her chest was going to burst from the pressure.

While she felt his eyes ravaging her body, she took the opportunity to examine him. Not much had been altered physically, he still possessed the same flawless sculpted face, silver blond hair, and devilish smile. But as she let it sink in, she realized his old self hadn't been entirely preserved. He grew significantly taller, his shoulders broader.

She had been facing the same truth for three excruciating years after he abandoned Hogwarts to support Lord Voldemort's army.

Draco was a different person, unrecognizable.

He was a killer, a murderer, a vile version of her old confidant.

But the truth still shone through, and she knew it. She loved him, and she would be helpless to do anything about it. After everything that he had done, the sins he had committed against her and her loved ones, she shouldn't be able to accept him.

She was terrified of Draco now, petrified with fear. Disconcerted, angry, frustrated, she was at loss of what to do.

Her previous classmates nicknamed her 'Looney' Lovegood, the mad petite girl with an imagination for creatures that didn't exist. They said she had lost her sanity. But Luna never thought much of their taunting, she considered herself an intellectual with legitimate beliefs. However, as she stood there, staring deep into gray eyes, she began to reconsider.

"Let go of me," it took all of her courage to muster such a soft whisper, his hand still held one of her wrists with a crippling grip.

Maybe she had indeed lost her sanity.

He glowered over her, unexplained rage emitting through his core. He could feel the girl under him he bent down further, so now his lips resting by her ear.

His voice lower than before, he breathed out in a deep tone, "Never," he paused letting the air tickle the side of her neck, "Never again,"

**End Chapter 1**

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! Please leave me a comment/review if you want me to continue!**  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You're insane," she caught breathlessly as she tried to recover whatever dignity she had left. Her efforts to push him away were futile, he wasn't budging. Instead of distancing his body from her own, she had only given him the pleasure of her hands on his torso.

His rage disappeared as he chuckled darkly at her irony, "Am I?" his grip on her shoulders tightened as he smirked deeper into his favorite crook of her neck. He inhaled her demure scent, how much he missed this.

His embrace forced her knees to buckle, the intensity of his proclamation making her head spin. Never let her go? Impossible.

The slight tremble of her body sent waves of satisfaction into him.

He preferred her this way, broken.

Their early relationship had been one filled with insecurity. She treated him with the utmost affection, but he hated it when he saw her do the same for complete strangers. He was endlessly afraid of losing her. She was the greatest thing that ever graced his presence, and he was just the unworthy soul who she happened to touch.

But now it was different, she was his. Wholly, entirely, definitely in his possession. She had no where to run, no one's arms to be held in but his own.

"I thought of you quite often while we were apart" he murmured in a dangerously low tone, inhaling her demure scent. He nibbled teasingly on her ear as he whispered,"Did you miss me Luna?"

There was once a time she was oblivious to his advances, the intimacy of his actions. But she knew him well now, she knew what he was in for. He wasn't leaning in to tell her a secret, he wasn't holding her tighter to keep her warm from cold weather.

What motivated him now was the animalistic need to be with her. And with her in the way any man was with any woman.

"Don't," it was a pathetic attempt to command, chest heaving slowly. It was a single word, but the strength it took to get it out was immense. Shame at her own weakness stabbed her rib cage, what had she amounted to? A girl so dumbfounded that she couldn't get one syllable without shaking.

"Don't what?" he questioned teasingly into her nape.

She breathed deeply, "Don't treat me like this," she softly choked on each word.

He responded by leaning in even closer, pressing her harder into the wall. She gasped as she felt her shoulder blades dig into the stone behind her, refusing to wince. She had been through worse. "Like what?"

Draco wasn't as slow as he let on, he knew exactly what she meant. He was playing with her, like some twisted game. She had dealt with harsher taunts in the last years, but this was different. It only served further confirmation for what she didn't want to admit.

This wasn't the same boy who had given her first kiss, nor was he the one that waited for her outside her dorms or walk her to potions class. This was the man who chose to murder, who gave up what they shared to protect his family's honor. He justified his decision to join the Dark Lord with the mention of redemption. At that time the Malfoy name had been tainted, it had been left up to young Draco to save its legacy. He committed himself to Voldemort's bidding, and he succeeded. He won, it was all that mattered.

"Don't patronize me like I'm some petty fool," it was hushed but harsh, unnatural. She froze as she felt him stiffen, his muscles tensing. His hands moved from her shoulders to the sides of her head, palms flat against the wall behind her. He had trapped her.

His bliss had been broken, and he wasn't happy.

He towered over her, but she was pretending to feign brazen boldness, looking up at him with ferocity that he'd never witnessed in her. Her plans to distance them had backfired. His chest might have been further away, but unforgiving the glare in his eye was ever more so present.

"Luna," her name dripped of poison, spitting it out with venom. His voice was strong, resonating through the abandoned room.

She winced at the way he handled the word, he used to call her with the absolute warm adoration. Her pupils darted to their surroundings, hoping that maybe someone else would be around. Malfoy Manor had many attendants, but none of them were in sight. The couple was alone, and that fact alone made Draco more menacing.

She waited with baited breath for him to continue, his temper was something to be feared.

"Don't give me orders," it seeped out through his tightly gritted teeth.

As her dry, red, and swollen eyes stared into his cold, empty, and heartless grey ones, she became petrified. He'd snapped at the smallest words.

He couldn't tolerate the tone she was taking with him. She didn't understand her situation, did she? That might have been part of the lovely eccentricity he had fallen in love with so many years ago, but now it was infuriating. Draco didn't answer to anyone besides the Dark Lord himself, not even his father had authority over him.

He'd be damned if the woman who left him, broken their promise, was going to tell him what to do.

"You'll be wise to show some respect," he warned, ignoring the way she had started to shake under him. She couldn't stop, all of it entirely involuntary.

Draco hated it, he hated all of it. She was blaming him for everything that had happened, when in truth she was equally as complicit. He might have promised to stand by her through anything, but she had vowed just the same.

Where was she when he needed her? Potter and his gang didn't actually care for her, and she abandoned him for their likes. The describable feeling he had when he knew she was sitting in his family's cellar three years ago, the betrayal he witnessed when she escaped with that forsaken elf.

She'd done it without a second thought, thrown him away like unimportant trash.

He was going to make her pay for it, for all of it. He loved her, that much he couldn't deny, but he no longer cared if she loved him anymore. She was his for the taking, and no one could save her now.

That look in his eye, she'd never seen it before. It was a rage, a hunger, and it terrified her. Before she could register what he was doing, he had encircled both of her wrists in his grip. Bruises from the cuffs that had cut her skin and only been removed hours ago were still raw with pain, it was on instinct that she tried to pull away. He jerked them back forward.

"Besides Lovegood," he was smiling again, his wolf like grin made her uneasy. "Don't pretend you don't still have feelings for me,"

"None," she uttered in a barely inaudible volume. It was obvious she wasn't telling the truth. She'd never been skilled in the art of deceit, her veracity an idiosyncrasy that had drawn him in the beginning.

Nonetheless, he adored the way she answered him. Her voice, angelic, soft, a hit of terror mixed in, still beautiful. He licked his lips to keep temptation at bay.

"Don't lie," he warned playfully, "You're no good at it,"

He raised her wrists forward, so that she could look at them.

"Besides, I think we both have proof enough,"

She batted her lashes as she tried to follow, her line of sight raising from her wrists onto her hands. The glint of shining metal caught her gaze.

Oh, no.

Her face paled considerably, her mouth slightly left open. She completely forgot about it, it had become a part of her being she never consider to get rid of. Days during the war, she never bothered to even look at it, she couldn't even feel it around her finger anymore.

But as she stared at it now, it was clear she had taken good care of it. The platinum band still gleaming new, the gem as polished as the day he had given it to her.

"I see you kept it," a smugness washed over his handsome features.

Her engagement ring.

He had proposed the night before he disappeared. When he slipped the piece onto her finger, he already knew they were to separate. Luna had no idea, she thought when he kissed her goodnight that evening, that she would wake up the next morning with her future husband by her side.

She didn't conjure the idea of him leaving.

As devastated as she had been, she never removed it. It must have been some unconscious secret, she wanted to remember him. She didn't tell anyone who had presented her with such an expensive gift. Suspicion amongst Harry's forces often questioned her, recognizing the ring as something given from one lover to another.

She cast a spell, a part of her morning routine, to conceal the ring. As more enemies popped up, she wanted to protect it from greedy plunderers. Luna let go of all her other possessions, but she couldn't bring herself to pawn it off. The charm had worn off when she had been knocked out.

Draco released her wrists, and moved to caress her smaller left hand. He brought it up to his lips, placing to slightest of kisses on her knuckles.

"A Malfoy always keeps his promises, no matter how delayed this might be,"

Luna didn't understand, but she was beginning to.

The object signifying their commitment had remained on her finger. She was going to be a married woman, whether she wanted to be or not.

**End Chapter 2**

A/N: Whether or not I continue this story depends on if there are readers that want it. So leave a review if you want more. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Her eyelids fluttered open, light streaming through the far window temporarily blinding her. She was warm, comfortable, in a state of complete bliss. Sunlight reflected off the long blond locks that cascaded down her shoulder and fell onto the light pillow beneath her head. She drowsily closed her eyes before opening them once more. She smiled as she looked on at the sight only inches from her face.

It was _that_ dream again.

Instead of the harsh, cold rooms she stayed in during the War, she would be wake up in his endearing embrace. She felt her weight lying on him, his arm snaked around her waist, bringing their bodies in closer. His breathing was calm, aristocratic features relaxed in slumber.

Her hand reached out unconsciously, as she her finger caressed the straight bridge of his nose. Fleeting euphoria poured through her, it would all be over, and the inevitable disappointment would wash it all away.

She shut her eyes, preparing herself for the illusion to be ripped away.

She froze when as it dawned that moment never came, because all of it was real. It was no hallucination, this was a nightmare. Like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs, she gasped for air. She immediately tried to roll away from him, the image of perfection had been tarnished.

She used to think of it all the time, how her life would have ended up if Draco never left. If he had stayed by her side, reasoned with Harry, never joined the Dark Lord. Maybe they would have been married, maybe they would have still been in love.

Trouble was, this dream had turned into a horrifying reality. He was here with her, she had slept in his arms. They were together at last, but it wasn't the same.

In pure panic she tried again to remove his hold on her, but felt her muscles drop as blue eyes made contact with his cryptic grey.

Nearly a week had passed since the evening she found herself in the Malfoy Manor.

The first night she spent back with him had been a nightmare, unimaginable. Draco could have forced himself on her, but he didn't need to. He pulled her into a kiss, all of it harsh, passionate, hungry; his lips assaulted hers and she lost control. He might have initiated it, but she had given herself willingly.

It was the same thing every following night. She would tell herself to push him away, but found herself caving in with his every touch.

The way she cried after they finished gutted him. She had her hand smothered over her mouth to disguise the hiccups, but her shaking shoulders gave it away. He had seen people beg for their lives, plead for mercy, and he had never given it. But seeing her shed tears, it hit him harder than anything else. She was a china doll, so delicate, prone to shatter against the smallest of contact. He didn't understand, mistaking it all for her want to escape from him. So he just continued on, the same thing. He took what he wanted, trying not to become distracted by other emotional complications.

They were to be married, she would have to grow accustomed to everything soon enough. There was no other option.

She was appalled at the very sight of herself. She had promised herself not to degrade herself low, not to be taken by pure emotion. She failed spectacularly, the epitome of a deserter. Whatever she stood for the past several years had been thrown away in one encounter. She hated the person she had become, she hated the person he had become, but the pull between them was undeniable.

Luna winced as she felt his hand caress her golden hair, "Good morning," he murmured silkily, frowning at her retreating form. It seemed she was always eager to get away from him.

He ran a hand through his hair as he released his hold on her and slipped out of bed. Without another word, he moved to the bathroom, then to the closet, and reemerging moments later fully dressed in his robes.

He looked at the bed, her small figure hiding under the covers. He saw through her ruse, she wasn't still sleeping. While adjusting the hem of his sleeve, he bent over so his lips almost brushed her cheek.

_"Behave,"_

She didn't move, afraid of what her reaction could bring. It wasn't as if she dared to disobey on instinct in the first place. She pictured the victorious smirk on his lips. Luna felt him back away to the exit and heard him open the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Only when his footsteps made it down the hall, did Luna lift turn her body to look in the direction he had left in. It scared her, being so close to him. It was what she always wanted, but at the same time so different.

She was there but a few days, and a routine had already been established. He would leave in the morning to attend whatever Death Eater duties he had, and then return in the late evening.

Her wand was confiscated, perhaps even destroyed. The last time she recalled wielding her prized weapon was when she held it against Draco's neck. He had made it clear that she was no longer allowed to practice serious magic.

She stayed prisoner in his room during the day, her meals delivered by house elves; all of whom displayed unfriendly company, each of their visits lasting mere seconds. She tried to interest them in conversation, but all were too paranoid; something about how inappropriate it would have been for them to slack their chores to spend time with her. Though one of them had been kind enough to bring her a copy of the Daily Prophet. She was endlessly gracious, it was afterall, perhaps her only connection with the outside world.

The articles written in the paper made Luna painfully aware of the normalcy pureblood society had maintained during and after the War. While Potter sympathizers and mudbloods had been hunted down, the pureblood supremacy lived in luxury. Brunches, dinner parties, other extravagant events were just elements of the old order that Voldemort and his elitist followers had set out to preserve.

The thought of wealthy socialites out having wonderful times in the midst of everything that was going on twisted her heart. The Muggle race had only begun to acknowledge the existence of magic when they were enslaved. Clemency was offered to those that decided to switch sides to support Lord Voldemort, but a significant number of witches and wizards still refused to submit. Most of her companions had gone into hiding, Death Eaters were now employed to scout for said blood traitors. Their crimes were considered punishable by death.

Luna was on the latter, living under a false name and persona. But her efforts were foiled after a raid at the Leaky Cauldron, where she was immediately recognized by Bellatrix. Instead of being taken to the Ministry to face trial for treason, she was taken to this mansion. Chills crept down her spine as she remembered the sharp teeth of her captors. Unmentionable thoughts ran through her head, had Bellatrix not picked her up, she wouldn't have gotten away with a few shallow cuts and bruises.

She wiped her tears dry as she remembered her friends, what had become of them? Harry's duel with Voldemort had been over a month ago. She knew they were all competent enough to look after themselves, but she still prayed for their safety. Surely Ginny and Hermione had covered their tracks, they had always been more capable than her at those types of things.

As she raised the back of her hand to wipe her cheek again, she saw the true restraint the bound her in place. No heavy chains were necessary to trap Luna here, all it took was a ring. Unique, exquisite, tasteful, a plain combination of metal and diamond never looked so beautiful. Despite the traditional message of love behind the jewelry, all she saw was a mark. A mark that made her his property, not his wife.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips as Draco's presence had disappeared. She sat up, scooting back until her neck laid flat against the wooden headboard. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapping tightly around her legs.

Draco had disposed of the clothes Luna arrived in, the dress she came in was already damaged beyond repair anyway. It wasn't like she had luggage full of proper attire, so she had been forced to wear Draco's clothing. She wasn't comfortable asking for much, him obviously with a taller frame and broader shoulders, everything hung too big on her petite figure. His tops came down mid-thigh, covering her modesty, but she still felt exposed.

She inhaled deeply, the scent of his cologne still present in the collar. It was probably the only thing that stayed consistent through the years. She couldn't say why, but it offered her a sort comfort that nothing else could.

Just as she was about to move to take a shower, she heard the door knob turn. Her wideset, doe like eyes got even bigger as her neck snapped up. The house elves knew she didn't take breakfast, she was never hungry for anything anyway. Draco must have forgotten something and returned to retrieve it.

Before she could move under the comforter to feign a dormant state, the door opened. Her lips went open in momentary shock, her guest's sudden appearance entirely unprecedented.

A tall dignified woman, dressed neatly in an elegant dress stood in the entranceway. She had the most unmistakable smile, the sad enigmatic type Luna never knew quite how to interpret.

"Hello, Luna," a kind, nurturing voice greeted, "It's been such a very long time,"

"Mrs. Malfoy," she managed to get out, her throat dry and words cracked from lack of use.

Luna quickly jumped to her feet, standing stiffly erect. "I'm sorry, I didn't—" She gasped at the coolness of the marble floor beneath her toes. She found herself suddenly embarrassed by her appearance, her hair a mess, basically naked besides a shirt that obviously didn't belong to her.

Not the best impression she had hoped to instill.

"Won't you come in," How strange it felt to invite someone into a room of their own home.

Narcissa looked on at the younger woman with an expression of subtle approval. Her son was the star of her life, she adored him from the moment he came into the world. She was immensely proud of him, growing up nearly overnight, singlehandedly reestablishing his family's status. Draco attempted to keep his mother out of his business, deeming the details of his life too dangerous now that he was a servant of the Dark Lord. Indeed he had done it to protect her, and was successful with most of it.

But Draco's ways were flawed, he was no good at concealing his obsession with a certain golden haired girl.

It was refreshing to see the woman who had enamored her son to be a sweet, shy, pretty girl, same as she was when they had first been introduced. Had Draco not been her son, Narcissa would have wished that Luna deserve a better life than this. Luna's swollen and red rimmed eyes were all the evidence needed to prove that she had been crying.

She strode in gracefully with sky high stilettos, heels clicking with every step she took. She eyed the familiar band on Luna's left hand, admiring how fitting it looked resting on her finger. The Malfoy heirloom that had been passed down to blushing brides for generations somehow belonged on Luna Lovegood's finger.

Narcissa made her way to the small sofa that sat in the lounging portion of the room. She seated herself primly and patted the cushion next to her, beckoning Luna over.

"Come, Luna, we have much to discuss,"

**End Chapter 3**

A/N: Whether or not I continue this story, and/or the rate at which I update depends on if there are readers that want me to keep going. Only way I'll know is if you comment, so please leave a review if you want more. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"That looks awful," Narcissa remarked, examining the dark purple blemishes on Luna's fair arms and legs. "How inconsiderate of my son, I thought to have taught him better. He hasn't brought you to a healer?" she reached over the distance of the loveseat get a closer look at her wrists.

Her hands were cold, making Luna pull away. She shifted in her seat, crossing her arms hoping to make the marks less visible. Luna kept her head down, hoping to avoid the older woman's gaze. "No," was her simple response. She felt uneasy, the matriarch of the Malfoy family, wife and now mother of the two most notorious Death Eaters of their age. She was always composed, calm, it was unnerving.

"Of course," she pursed her lips into a thin line, "I hope you're adjusting well,"

"Not well at all I'm afraid," the blatant honesty slipped out. She wouldn't try to lie, she was an open book to most people, she was sure Narcissa would be able to see through any kind of deceit.

"I see,"

A heavy silence fell over them. They barely knew each other, they would have no reason to be acquainted.

They did however meet once before, but only once.

It was the time when Draco had been sent to the infirmary in the middle of his sixth year at Hogwarts. He passed out while wandering the halls in the middle of the night, Madame Pomfrey accredited his condition to sheer exhaustion and dehydration. But as a mother, Narcissa knew better. The stress the Dark Lord and the fixing the vanishing cabinet was beginning to take its toll. It was no surprise he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks.

Security at Hogwarts had tightened significantly that year, so Narcissa had been forced to complete an ungodly amount of paperwork before she recieved permission to visit the campus. By the time she finished and apparated outside of the school gates, it was early morning. She quickly trudged her way into the medical wing of the castle, pushing through to the nurse's quarters.

She spotted him lying on a cot in the far corner of the room, he was the only patient there. It was curious, for someone that was supposed to have suffered from insomnia, Draco looked to be having a peaceful sleep.

Then by some convenient reason, a seat had already been pulled out by his bedside. Odd how the chair was still faintly warm, almost as if someone had been sitting in it all night.

She took her son's hand, hushing him soothingly, he kept muttering something in his sleep. He was repeating the same phrase over and over again. It was then that Narcissa spotted the collection of colorful, childish looking charms on the nightstand. A note had been left underneath them, reading:

'_To keep away the Wrackspurts' _

Surely her son didn't believe in such absurdities.

Before Narcissa could really go further into all that anomalies in the room, she joined Draco in his slumber. Worry over Draco's wellbeing had tired her out just as well. When she awoke a few hours later, she was surprised for find that Draco was still sleeping soundly. Whatever potions they gave him had really helped.

But she was even more shocked to find that they had been joined by a new presence. A girl, no older than Draco, was humming and rearranging the charms on the table. Narcissa watched bleary eyed as the girl finished and skipped her way out of the room. There was no time to question her actions, as Madame Pomfrey arrived seconds later.

Narcissa immediately inquired the girl's identity from the nurse that had just entered.

The nurse opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by the only male in the room. It caught both of them off guard, not expecting him to gain consciousness so suddenly. He hadn't been awake when the girl was present, but he was confident in his answer.

_ "Luna Lovegood," _

It was then that she realized what, or who, Draco had been desperately asking for in his sleep.

Now Narcissa picked Luna's appearance apart with deft eyes. The girl was pretty, but there wasn't much else material to go off of. She found herself speechless at Luna's breathtakingly blue eyes.

Perhaps there was only one piece of information she really needed to know, she smiled knowingly as she faced the younger woman, "Do you love him?"

Luna wasn't sure she had heard correctly, "Do I what?"

She clicked her tongue, entertained by how flustered she had gotten at the question. She didn't bother repeating her question before continuing, "Malfoy is a prestigious title, I'm sure you know what such an honor would entail," she ignored the bewildered expression on Luna's face, "I'm here to help guide you, ease your transition a bit,"

A transition she was forced to make.

Narcissa sighed, "It's best you listen to what I have to tell you. Draco's cared for you for quite some time now, I doubt he'll be willing to let you go. I know he acts a bit different than you last remember, but he does care about you,"

Luna looked unconvinced, even while admitting there were hints of truth in her words.

"If it weren't for Draco, you'd be out on the street hiding from prosecution for your crimes. With him, you'll be able to lead a different life, a better one,"

The younger woman cringed. She didn't want to owe her vitality to a single being, not to someone like him.

"It goes without saying the union will take place,"

Pools of tears began to gather in her eyes, eventually building up and trailing down her complexion. She held her breath to try and stop. Her fate had already been sealed, and she had no say in it.

Narcissa did something uncharacteristically warm, she leaned over and embraced the other female with a tight hug. It didn't feel all that long ago that she had been subjected to a similar situation. At least Luna had loved her future husband at some point.

"Shh," she hushed, rubbing circles on her back as she continued to sob, reminiscent of how she had comforted her own blood child. "It's going to be okay. Come love, let's get you cleaned up."

**-p-**

That day had been a horrific realization.

Narcissa was a comforting company, but her future mother-in-law wasn't one to sugar coat the future. She had rigidly outlined the responsibilities and requirements that would be made of her when she married Draco.

After the daunting conversation, Narcissa had ordered the house elves to draw a proper bath for Luna. One duty that had been explained was appearance. Ladies of the upper crust held their looks as their first priority. Vanity had never meant anything to Luna before, she was immediately overwhelmed with the list that Narcissa had put out.

Next, a number of bags brought into the room.

Each dress, each shoe, each accessory was magically tailored to her body. With her long golden hair assembled into smooth waves, Narcissa had complimented that she looked like a real lady. Fit to be seen as a Malfoy woman.

Luna decided that Narcissa would act as an ally while she was there. Narcissa was the closest to a maternal figure as she would ever have. The older woman also took it upon herself go beyond what was necessary to help Luna. She couldn't help it.

Hours had passed, and Narcissa had taken her leave.

Luna now stared at her reflection in the mirror, it didn't look like her. The expensive dress that clung to her figure, the heels that she'd been urged to put on her tiny feet. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to remember what she had looked the last time she looked into a mirror.

When she couldn't recall, she gave up and opened her eyelids. She jumped back in surprise at what she saw, because she had been joined by someone else.

She hadn't heard him enter the room, she hadn't even sensed his presence.

His arms slid to her hips from behind, raising to caress her waist. She bashfully lowered her eyes, not wanting to look at him in the vanity. She didn't struggle out of his grasp, she just stood still.

But as she managed to avoid contact with his grey eyes, she was confronted with the dark insignia on his left forearm. He never showed it openly to her, he had hidden the fact that he had taken the mark before. Things had changed, the world had changed. He was proud of it now.

"I like the dress," he whispered into her hair huskily, "It suits you,"

She noted the time that he confessed he enjoyed plum colors on her.

"I see my mother visited," he worked his way deeper into her neck. She froze as she felt his teeth graze over the sensitive skin. "I assume you had a good time?" his tone somewhat spiteful.

Without thinking, her hand raised to caress the side of his face. Before she could stop herself, she murmured, "I missed you,"

She didn't know why it slipped out, but all the talk Narcissa dished had scared her. She needed a friend, she needed a shelter, refuge. Everything else she knew, any other person she cared about, nothing remained.

She needed him. She was tired of fighting it all. She needed someone to hold her, tell her everything would work itself out. Even if it was a lie, she needed it.

For an instant she thought to retract her comment, but decided against it. Instead, she kept going, "All these years, all of it, I missed you," it was the first time she admitted it.

She felt his muscles tense, this time not out of anger, but out of surprise. She didn't need to see his face to know he was pleased.

Before she could register what he was doing, he had dropped his arms to the side, then grabbed her the shoulders and forced her to turn around. She felt her hips ram violently up against his as he dipped his head and crashed his lips onto hers.

Luna tried not to think about the fact that the one she missed was the Draco Malfoy from before, not the one that was kissing her.

**End Chapter 4**

A/N: Leave me a review if you want me to continue. Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Their flame heated with incomprehensible speed, and before she could register what was happening, his discarded shirt was thrown on the arm of a random chair, and the bottom of her dress hitched dangerously up her thigh. They had moved connected from the vanity across to the bed to a nearby wall, his weight smothering her against the smooth surface.

"Stop," she realized where this was heading, and panic rushed forward. The word caught in the back of her throat.

He didn't hear her, working his way further down her neck.

"Draco, stop," she placed her hands on his chest, pushing him away. His name felt foreign on her tongue, it was a bizarre sensation to speak to him again.

"What?" he growled sensually, not bothering to stop as his hands went down under her back to locate the zipper behind her dress.

"Stop," this time was louder, she deposited greater strength into her shove. But it wasn't forceful enough to actually distance him from her.

She waited for him to ignore her and do as he pleased, but a flash of his previous self flickered. She felt him pull away, lifting his head up. Slight frustration was present in his face, but he still listened to her. When they had first realized their affections, he was never one to pressure her into anything.

She glanced down as he removed his hands from her lower back, retracting them back into his pant pockets. He took a deep breath, as if to calm whatever desires that were threatening to spill out. He didn't step away though, he leaned forward, his forehead resting against the top of her head.

Her lungs constricted painfully around the air in her body. She tried to tilt her neck up to look at his face, but found herself entranced by the dark insignia that burned on his inner arm. It bore an image in her mind, she couldn't forget about it no matter the lengths she went to forget it. The empty looking skull stared back at her with a pitiless, unmerciful gaze.

"What's wrong?" he murmured softly, the gentle feature in his voice clear. He was pleased that she was so willing to engage him today. He didn't know what his mother had told Luna, but he was thankful for it. It had been a long time since she had said his name with that loveable dreamy tone.

She couldn't look away from the Dark Mark, it frightened her.

Voldemort frightened her, the Death Eaters frightened her, Slytherin frightened her. This new world, all of it terrified her.

He narrowed his silver eyes as he sensed her unease, he moved his arms forward to comfort her. But she intercepted before he could.

"Does it hurt?"

Her fingertips trailed along the burn, the black tattoo inked into his pale skin with the deadliest of magic. She felt the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she felt daring enough to touch it. She shut her eyes, unable to comprehend how he had dealt with the pain, kept it a secret.

At that time, he was so vulnerable, he was so young.

"No," he replied straightly, the emotion suddenly gone.

He was a brilliant liar, but it was a skill she thought to be practiced over her. She knew his family's allegiance to the Dark Lord, hell she had been partly responsible for putting his father in Azkaban. But the extent of Draco's personal involvement remained a cloud of mystery.

Katie Bell, Ron Weasley's curious stay in the medical ward, Dumbledore's death. He had played his hand in it all of it, but the evidence was never confessed to her. That mark, the unmistakable Dark Mark, along with all the wrong he'd done, had been hidden away.

He was consumed with sin his entire life. His parents were a pair of murderers, the rules didn't apply to the mighty Draco Malfoy. He was part of the prophetic future, he was part of bringing filth ridden and dirt veined magic in its rightful place. He was bound for darkness since he could remember. But not Luna.

Pure, peaceful, good natured Luna Lovegood was just his polar opposite. When his hands were drowning in blood, she stumbled into his life. If he had ever experienced a miracle, it was her.

She was innocent, lovely, happy, everything he wasn't at that point. Her rambles of Nargle nonsense made him smile, she made him feel human again. He found himself falling off the dangerous abyss of love after a couple of short months, becoming even more in awe as he saw her doing the same. How could something so wonderful, love something so disastrous?

She cradled his elbow in her small hand, tilting her head to the side in order to get a better look. "You could have told me about it, it must have been so difficult to go through it alone."

Whatever demons in him that wanted to have her moments ago suddenly disappeared. An unprecedented anger brewing a storm, his defined jawline tensing as he tore his arm away from her touch.

He never told her before because he refused to taint her. He wouldn't confide his every trouble in her, it would have shattered her. She wouldn't have been able to handle the shadows that lurked in his consciousness. He didn't like when she asked about that part of his life. Granted his work now wasn't deemed as wrong and hazardous as it once was, he wasn't about to take that risk. He wouldn't lose her, he refused.

His sudden pull back took a second to sink in, her hands floating in the air without anything to hold on. His ragged breath told her his mood had changed. "You're upset," stating the obvious

"Yes," he answered back, sarcasm dripping generously. He let out his breath, the tips of his shoes which had been touching the tops of her toes moved backwards. He turned his back to her and began walking back to his shirt, roughly pushing his arms into the sleeves. He buttoned the front up, pushing the sleeves up towards his elbows.

Luna stood frazzled, her somewhat swollen lips red from the pressure that had been applied. She watched him and followed his lead, Luna straightened a smoothed down the skirt of her dress, rearranging the straps. She ran her fingers through her knotless hair, pulling all of it to one side in front of her shoulders.

"Come here," his tone stern, authoritative.

She doesn't possess the nerve to disobey. She didn't know what it was, but Draco looked a bit more like he did when they were younger. His presence was menacing, but some of the edge had been taken off. He was treating her with a bit more humanity, the boy she loved coming through.

Narcissa's words somehow replayed in her head. _"__I know he acts a bit different than you last remember, but he does care about you,"_

Luna was slowly seeing the wisdom to her words. Everyone changed with time, it was a part of life. Draco Malfoy the servant of Lord Voldemort was still the same Draco Malfoy from Hogwarts. He was the same person.

He was the same person.

She kept her eyes on her shoes, trying to maintain her balance at the new height. When his shoes came into sight, she raised her vision. A distinct chill curled up her spine as she did, because all it took was one stride of his long legs, and he was standing scandalously close.

He fingered one of her light tresses, tugging on it occasionally. She resisted the urge to wince when he tugged a bit too hard. "I need you to listen to me, there are some things you need to understand," They'd been as intimate as two people could, but this moment seemed more exposing. He was peeling back every layer of her being effortlessly.

Her breath hitched as he twisted the piece of hair again, a touch too forceful. He had done it to get her attention when she paused. She quickly nodded her head once, signaling him to go on.

"I know you're scared right now, but you're going to have to hide it. The life you lead is no longer the one you had when you participated in the rebellion,"

She bit the inside of her cheek as she tried not to say something back. It wasn't a rebellion, the other side had been the one to establish the revolution in the first place.

"We are to be married, you're going to be my wife, just like we've always planned," the last part had been whispered in a softer tone, "You belong to me, you are mine."

She was always been his. He'd said similar things before, she never understood why.

"You'll leave all the nonsense from before, you can start over. You'll swear fealty to the Dark Lord, you won't utter a word of Harry Potter,"

He was speaking at her, his lips were moving, but when she looked up at him, she couldn't hear a sound. All of it was empty words, hollow shells with no meaning. She felt a pressure fist around her heart and crush it into a chalk like dust.

Yes, this was Draco, the same Draco.

The same lying man who never faltered. He never apologized, he never expressed his sorrow. Draco Malfoy has always been like this. Draco Malfoy has always been a heartless jerk who cared for no one else, not even her.

Like she'd been struck on the back her head, tremors vibrated through her head. She could hear him again, he had continued with his list of orders.

"What about my friends?" she questioned bitterly. She was brazen enough to look him in the eye and hold her glare.

He spared nothing, "You'll make new ones," as if her friendships could be forgotten and thrown away so easily.

She raised her hand to break the hold his hold on the lock of hair, but his reflexes proved faster. He grabbed her wrist swiftly. "Do you understand?" he was aggravated somehow, his disposition fluctuating with the slightest of happenings.

"I'm trying to be agreeable," he said while pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. It was as if he genuinely couldn't understand why she was upset.

Insensitivity was more what he portrayed.

"No," it was barely audible, but he heard.

"What?"

"No," her voice was broken, but she had no intention of backing down.

She'd never been more frightened in her life. But not because of the crippling strength of his grip, but because she came to understand the boy she had fallen in love with, and continued to hold sentiments for, had been , was now, and would forever be a monster.

**End Chapter 5**

A/N: Almost wanted to wait a few more days to post this for the sake of hoping for more feedback for the last chapter, but decided against it. If you want me to continue, please leave me a review. Anonymous reviews are welcome, just click the button below! Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Draco was accustomed to getting what he wanted. He possessed the wealth, influence, and looks to buy, threaten, and charm his way into anything. There wasn't a man he couldn't intimidate into seeing things through his scope. His methods of persuasion were faultless. But there was always trouble with perfection, because a flaw would always come creeping through a crack that wasn't supposed to exist.

There was bound to be someone that he couldn't force, and Luna was that.

He couldn't stand the way she never raised her voice, the melody of her voice playing a soft tune. He couldn't understand how she wouldn't fight back, or even look at him with through hatred. He didn't want to resort to the sort of measures that would break her forever.

So the silence was murderous, maddening. She just sat like a lifeless doll through his rants, or stood staring into the emptiness. By the next day, no furniture in the room remained unturned, no object unthrown. The terrified look in her eye, and the airy stubbornness was driving him insane.

Draco's shouting did not go unnoticed by the rest of the mansion, and after he stormed out Narcissa entered the room with cautious steps. Her son's temper was one that could only compete that with his father, a trait that seemed to be passed down in Malfoy men. She found their room in disarray, with Luna crouched behind the dresser. She sighed as she made her way toward the younger woman. She knelt down to the convulsing girl, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Luna?"

She didn't respond, her face turned toward the wall. Draco had belligerently unsheathed some of the nastiest remarks, all of his comments the deadliest of weapons. He knew her inside and out, and that was how he knew what words would cut the sharpest.

The concern that was held in Narcissa voice suddenly evaporated, new disapproval striking forward. "You're lucky he hasn't struck you for being disagreeable," she took a handkerchief out and began to dab the tears off Luna's cheeks. "With your behavior and any other man, I'm afraid we couldn't say the same,"

"He's lucky I don't have my wand," she whispered as she thoughtlessly felt behind her left ear, but stopped when she realized it wouldn't be there.

It was true, Draco hadn't gone out of his way to beat her, but he didn't have the greatest awareness of his own strength. She absently twisted her wrist, the ache painfully present from the black bruise encircling it. Luna's perceptive blue eyes flew to the older woman, it was clear that she'd experienced some form of physical abuse from her own husband in the past. Had it been most other situations, Luna would have asked whether or not Lucius had been one inclined to hit his wife, but decided against it.

"You should apologize to him," Narcissa coaxed. "It's better to do so sooner rather than later,"

The blonder of the two pushed the cloth away from her eyes, roughly brushing the salt liquid off her face. Narcissa was a logical woman, she didn't sprout meaningless chatter. What other choice did Luna actually possess? She had to listen to Draco and follow his instructions,Even if she had managed to distance escape, countless Death Eaters flooded every edge of the earth. She'd be returned dropped back onto his lap, he wouldn't even have to do so much as lift a finger.

The fear on Narcissa's face was enough to keep Luna quiet. Draco never outright went to inflict her physical harm, but that didn't mean he couldn't.

To ease the anxiety on the older woman's face, the blue eyed girl nodded, "Okay,"

Relief spread over Narcissa's face, but a dose of regret as well. Such good natured girl, about to be thrown to a pack of hungry wolves. It would be difficult one day to see her ripped apart.

"Draco's probably seething, but he'll calm down soon enough," the taller woman rose to her feet, helping the other female to do the same. Luna grabbed her head as she felt the blood rush through her body, she'd been hiding behind the furniture for a while now. They didn't fight, they never did. He'd never lost his temper at her before, not like to that extent at least. She wasn't used to that side of him.

But Narcissa had this calming affect with her, she seemed to be in control of everything. Luna trusted her, perhaps a bit naively, but who else did she have? She guided her towards the one of the doors on the right of the room, the closet.

"After a row with Lucius, I always find it good to look through my closet," she made it sound as if they quarreled quite often. "It gives me something to think about, take a step back for a moment," What a pathetic life to lead.

The extension was quite large, and Narcissa had filled it with all different articles of clothing. Luna walked down the length of the structure, her fingers running down the sides of expensive cloth that hung on the walls.

Narcissa picked one dress of navy blue, a color that uncannily mimicked Luna's solemnity. It was a simple, modest dress. Narcissa brought it over and held it again to Luna's body, trying to picture what she would look like in it. After a moment of deliberation, she decided it was fitting for whatever she had in mind.

"I know it's fashionable for you young women to be rather slim these days, but I'd like to say that this family is well-on conservative. No sensible man want's a skeleton. A bit more meat on your bones couldn't hurt a bit," Luna looked through her peripheral vision at Narcissa's hypocritically nonexistent waist.

Luna was exhausted, so she held her tongue and bobbed her head again.

"So do try and have an appetite tonight, it'll do you some good to get a touch color back in your cheeks,"

Luna's palms reached to touch the sides of her face, suddenly self conscious of her appearance. Was she too bony, and really that pasty? She hadn't been minding her health that well, ergo the lack of food she ingested and smaller figure. But she didn't think it was to that extent of scrutiny.

**-p-**

Draco sat in his study downstairs, tapping his fingers against his desk in an impatient manner. It was cold in the office, not possessing many items to keep it full. Books magically scaled the walls, papers that documented just about everything in wizarding history. For three years, he had hoped for the day Luna would return to him. Now that she was in his arms, she didn't want to be there. She was being impossibly difficult, and he was at a loss of what to do.

He supposed her terror for him didn't improve from his angry cursing and fits up in the room. He didn't know how to make her see sense, his sense. He could duel and dominate against the most skilled wizards of the room, yet he couldn't control a tiny girl.

A knock came on the door.

A house elf entered warily, his back hunched and head down, apparently too afraid to look its master in the eye. "Master Draco," its voice was thick and scratchy, sandpaper, "The Mistress is here,"

He shooed the pitiful creature away, giving permission for his guest to enter.

"Well, it's been a while hasn't it Drake?"

A strikingly featured woman stepped through the entrance, her long physique and beautiful face the first traits a man noticed about her. Her shiny, dark enough to be black hair was pulled into a dignified twist. Pearl earrings, flawlessly tanned skin, she looked far more mature than a girl of her age.

"Astoria Greengrass," he stated uninterested. He reclined further back into his large chair, "What brings you to Malfoy Manor?"

She walked forward, moving her hips to a coquettish sway. Despite the snug fit of her skirt, she managed to hop onto the edge of his desk, legs crossed, body facing the handsome man before her. She looked down at her painted nails, surveying each for a chip. "Well you see, my boyfriend's been missing his appointments with me. Word's gotten around our tight circle, and it seems he's been cheating on me,"

He gave an amused smirk, she always was somewhat intriguing, he'd give her that. "I'm engaged," he drawled slowly.

"Fine," she shrugged with equal entertainment, "My _lover's_ been cheating on me with his wife. And Drake, you know how much infidelity irks me," She scooted closer, her arms going to support her weight as she leaned in closer.

"Draco?" a mousy, unsure voice called.

Both heads snapped toward the door, finding said wife standing with wide eyes. Astoria instinctively jumped off the desk, landing unceremoniously on her feet. She recovered her composure soon after, standing up straight, a fake white smile pointed at the petite blonde beauty.

Draco didn't move from his seat, he stared at his fiance with dead grey eyes. He wasn't one to forget his earlier frustrations. "What is it?" he snapped harshly.

"I'm sorry, I was just—I," she took in the scene she had just walked in on, an unidentifiable weight dropped on her chest. She'd gotten lost in the immense building, having made several wrong turns, she invested in asking a house elf to find him. "I'll come back later," she managed to get out. She attempted to scurry away, and push back what she had just witnessed to the deepest depths of her mind.

"Stay," his staid tone made it unlikely to do otherwise.

She froze in her tracks, hesitantly turning around on her heel. While doing so, she accidentally found herself surveying the stranger that was there. Envy slithered over her, whoever she was, she had a healthier, voluptuous figure. Her waist was probably thinner than Luna's, but the rest of her was far more shapely. She was tall too, leggier. In other words, she was the picture of aesthetic perfection. The familiar feeling of insecurity haunted her again.

"Hello, I'm Astoria Greengrass," the stranger gave a misleadingly sweet grin, "You must be Luna Lovegood, we were in the same year at Hogwarts."

Hogwarts. That time that she carelessly frolicked through the castle's many halls felt more than lifetimes ago.

"And she was just leaving," Draco finished for her, shooting her a glare to flank his message.

"Of course," she agreed. "Pleasure to meet you, Luna. I'm sure you'll be seeing plenty of me in the future," the brunette added.

"Yes," Luna whispered, her eyes now on the floor. Her heart that usually beat rapidly in strange situations, was pumping excruciatingly slow. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched and waited for Astoria to exit the large room.

She listened as he pushed his seat back, and walked around to the front of the large oak desk. Intricate designs had been carved all along the table's surface, she began to concentrate on each line, every curve, when he broke her reverie. "What do you want?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but he did it for her.

"Forgive me, what am I saying? I know exactly what it is that you want," light blue met silver, "You want to ask permission to run back to the dirt veined swines you call friends,"

Again, words like knives. She closed her eyes, her burning forehead threatening another head splitting migraine.

"What was that Luna? Want Potter to come and save you? Want your precious mudblood to give you a hug and take you away from me?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat, remembering what Narcissa had said. Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, she didn't want to think of how they would look at her now if they knew what she was doing. But she couldn't bear to argue with Draco anymore, it was a battle she wouldn't win. "I've come to say sorry," it came out like rehearsed record. It might not have been the truth, but she would let him see what he wanted.

The surprise on his face couldn't have been more poorly disguised. Guilt came over him, but all visibility of it was shoved behind his mask before she could spot it. His tone, however did soften, "Is that so?"

She made a courageous step forward, inhaling deeply, "I'm sorry for my behavior," another well fabricated repetition.

As he considered her repentance, she decided to speak a bit more honestly. She shook her head, "I don't want to fight with you, I'm tired of fighting,"

Before she could utter another word, he had already approached her. His hands cupped her face, turning her gaze up to meet his intensity. "I understand its difficult for you, but I'm glad you've seen the error in your actions," he bent down and pressed his lips against hers, "I forgive you,"

A semblance of happiness and victory gushed forward, but a dam of doubt blocked its way. She turned her cheek when he tried to kiss her again. "Who was that, 'Astoria Greengrass'?"

"You don't remember her?" It was probably to be expected, neither girls had traveled in the same social networks.

"No, I don't," a nearly undetectable annoyance mixed into her whimsical voice.

"She's an acquaintance, an old family friend," he responded casually. He picked up on her irritation and dropped his hands from her cheeks, another smirk on his lips. He inched closer down into her neck, just so he could say lowly in her ear, "Why, are you jealous?" Must he insist on speaking condescendingly down to her every chance he got?

She tried to ignore his hot breath that hit her nape, "No," Merlin, she wished she wasn't such a horrendous liar.

In her mind, acquaintances weren't caught in compromising positions like before. Then again, she didn't have the most conventional outlook on the world.

But what had Astoria she meant, when she said they'd be seeing plenty more of each other in the future?

**End Chapter 6**

A/N: I know Astoria's a year under Luna, but let's just pretend she's in the same. As far as what trusting, innocent, Luna saw in Draco's study, was just two people sitting unusually close together. Thanks for reading, please leave a review if you can. Again, if and when I update depend on the feedback I get. **  
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	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This chapter takes place a couple of weeks after the last one. **  
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**Chapter 7**

It was happening again.

Dementors flooded the sky, blackening everything they touched with smoke. Metallic stench bled through the air, making the collapsed and neglected corpses a prevalent reality. Rubble and ruin surrounded them, even more debris falling around her feet. This was it, this was the day they had been preparing for since the early days of Dumbledore's Army. This was the final battle.

And they were losing.

Their forces couldn't compare to those that belonged to the Dark Lord, he was too strong. They had no choice but to fall back and run, not that the other side let them go. They were being forced into a corner, helpless lambs ready for the slaughter.

Hexes and curses crashed down on every side, flashing through the darkness like lightning. Shrill and strident screams followed each incantation. She couldn't afford to stop and look to see who they belonged to.

Everyone was there, everyone was fighting. Her impossibly large eyes widened with fear as she realized a Death Eater had his wand pointed at her. His lips moved muted, she couldn't hear him, but she knew the hooded figure was there to kill her. She shut her eyes, resigning herself over to fate. There was no time to counter it.

She waited for the pain to envelop her soul, but then she felt him rush to her side. She didn't have to open her eyes to know he was there, his presence unmistakable. Her first friend, her _best_ friend. Again there to protect her. She listened as he hurled a spell at the enemy, then feeling his hand fasten around her wrist to pull her forward.

Her eyelids snapped open, only to meet his jaded green eyes.

That was when she froze.

He once told her she was the only person in the world who could read him like she did. She was the one that had helped him recover from Cedric Diggory's death, comforted him after Sirius Black's murder. She provided him a haven to open up, it was in her nature to help him reach an emotional stability. Perhaps that was why she could tell what he was thinking the moment they looked at each other.

She violently ripped her arm away from him in horror, it wasn't fair.

He'd been training all of them all this time so they could face the Dark Lord collectively. He always spoke of the power of standing united, how they were going to be victorious because of their strong bonds. He promised that they would take care of one another.

Liar.

His eyes spoke to her without words, they spoke the truth. He was planning on sacrificing himself and duel Voldemort by himself. He gave her a smile, one twisted with pain and lament. He moved toward her and wrapped his arms around her, he was crying.

She offered him friendship, but over the years, he had grown to desire something more than that. But he would never be able to pursue a relationship now.

She tried to push away, this wasn't the end. This wasn't goodbye, she wouldn't let him do this. She'd given up everything to be on his side, to fight for what was right. He couldn't do this, not to her. He'd be killed if he went to fight Voldemort on his own, everyone knew that. Yet he was going to do it regardless.

"I'm sorry, Luna" he sobbed down on her shoulder, choking on his words.

That was when she realized the fighting had stopped, nearly everyone gone. A distressed Hermione was running towards Harry, being the brightest witch of her age, she knew what he was going to do. Tears ran down her face as she came to stop him, only to be held back mid step. Ron apparated out of thin air, grabbing his girlfriend, proceeding by nodding stiffly at his friend, and apparating away.

Another scream, it was Ginny. She was being held back by her father, begging the boy not to do this. Just as it happened with Hermione, she was gone with the blink of an eye.

Luna couldn't breathe, air wouldn't fill her lungs no matter how much she gasped for it.

This was the boy who didn't consider her to be the same 'Loony' Lovegood. This was the boy who had given her the gift of companionship, the boy who taught her the true meaning of what having friends was. He even entertained her ideas of imaginary creatures on occasion.

This was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, going to die.

She was speechless, unable to move her lips. She clung to his jacket, refusing to let go. He wasn't going to do this, she wouldn't let him.

He pried her hands off of him with steady hands.

"Luna," he started shaking his head, "I'm going to miss you. I know I haven't always been the most truthful with you, I—"

But that was all he got out, because someone had appeared behind her. She watched his once vivacious emerald eyes behind his glasses as he tilted his chin tightly upwards, giving grudging permission to the person who held her shoulder from behind.

_"Harry!" _

Before she could stop it from happening, she found herself sitting in the mournful Leaky Cauldron. He was gone._  
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She opened her eyes, feeling awfully cold. She sat up in the extravagant bed that sat in Malfoy Manor. She nearly jumped when she felt an arm around her waist, his familiar lips pressing against her neck.

She realized that it was probably late afternoon or early evening, seeing that he had already come home from work.

"Hey," he whispered, his presence somewhat soothing compared to the nightmare she just awoke from. She'd been having it a lot recently, she was just glad that Draco didn't know what it was about. She tried not to think what he would do if he discovered she never willingly left Harry. "How are you feeling? Mother's been telling me you've been sleeping through the day all the time,"

This was the Draco she was used to, caring, gentle, loving.

She liked the feeling, so she pressed herself closer to his form. She felt him smile into her nape at her action, responding by pulling her even closer.

"Did you take the sleeping draught the house elf brought you? You're supposed to take it twice a day,"

"I'm not an insomniac," she whispered, "And I'm not tired. I'm hungry,"

That surprised both of them, it seemed as if she ate barely anything as of late. But to Draco, it was good news. At least she was adjusting, slowly, but still adjusting.

"Let's go have dinner then," he replied lazily, pulling up off the bed. She followed him, stretching her arms high in the air. "Come on," he took her hand, tugging her off the bed a little too strongly on purpose. He caught her before she stumbled over.

He was about to go for the door when she stopped him.

"I need to change," she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the vanity across the room. Narcissa had spent a great deal of time invested in Luna's appearance. To think if she saw the young woman with her hair untamed running around her sleepwear. It would be scandalous.

"You look fine," Draco answered, "I prefer you dressed down anyways," he placed a light kiss on her forehead.

She felt the heat creep on her cheeks, thinking about what he had actually meant. But pulled away from his hand and went into the closet. "It'll take only a second," She arbitrarily picked the first dress she saw, pulled the nightgown over her head before replacing it with the form fitting dress. She clumsily zipped the back up.

Draco watched her while leaning on the wall, he could see everything that was going on as she never closed the door behind her. He found the way she rushed for him adorable, humored by the influence his mother had on his fiancé. She could feel his eyes on her semi naked body, but didn't shy away. She couldn't describe it, but she felt strangely comfortable around him.

She stumbled out, fumbling with a pair of shoes and pushing them onto her dainty feet. She moved diagonally to the dresser, quickly pulling her hair into a single thick braid. She finished moments later, just as she had promised.

She had just been sleeping, but she was completely awake and animated now. Compared to the nightmare about Harry, she much preferred the reality of spending time with Draco.

"I'm glad to see you're so excited to eat something," he teased as she was the one to grab his hand and lead him down into the hallway.

She was now allowed to wander the interior of Malfoy Manor, it was safe to say the trips were nothing short of spectacular. But she didn't dare go too far into the building without proper escorts, she'd gotten lost in the mazes of corridors more than enough times.

The couple made their way down to long, winding staircase. She managed not to gawk at the enormous twinkling chandelier above their heads as they entered the first floor. She released his bigger hand, and practically began skipping in front of him.

Draco couldn't help but feel pleased. He didn't know what had happened, but save the clothes and overall appearance, Luna was back to the way she was before. Not only was it entertaining, but it was a relief.

This was mostly the truth, as Luna found herself growing more at home with this new lifestyle. She had been feeling more faint than usual, but it was probably nothing. Over the past week, she and Draco hadn't argued once. And while he was out of the house, she had managed to make friends with one or two of the house elves. They hadn't been willing at first, but eventually grudgingly accepted her kindness. Narcissa had also promised to talk to Draco about visiting Hogsmeade later that month. Had it not been for the nightly trips she took in her slumber, things seemed to be going swell.

Draco put his hands in his pockets as he followed her happy figure, her disposition was contagious.

"What are you doing?" his eyebrows knitted together as he sent her a questioning look. Instead of taking them to the dining room, she had brought him into the kitchen. The group of house elves working in the room gave her terrified looks, glancing back from her to him.

"Yes, Master?" an older creature stepped forward, his head bowed. "How may we service you tonight?"

He didn't have a chance to answer, when Luna interrupted. "Hello Sir," she greeted chirpily, "I was going to make us some dinner,"

Draco didn't know which idea would have horrified his mother and father more. The fact that she had addressed a servant elf with a title, or that she was planning on doing some cooking herself. He couldn't help but press his lips together to prevent a threatening smile.

The elf stared up at her, unsure of how to respond.

"Surely Mistress would rather have me prepare something instead,"

It was Draco's turn to interrupt, "It's fine, let her do as she pleases," he gave permission to the small and puzzled animal. "Just stay to make sure she does no harm herself," he smirked down at the woman next to him.

The house elf nodded apprehensively, stepping back and allowing Luna her way to the counter.

"May I have a wand?" she asked dreamily, likely directed at Draco.

He frowned immediately. Luna wouldn't stop asking for her wand, and she knew he wasn't going to give it to her. Her incessant pleads were neverending. She didn't need a wand anymore, she wasn't fighting, nor was she out to fend for herself. Anything and everything that was a necessity could be provided in a different way.

"I need to get ingredients, how am I supposed to make anything without food?" she asked innocently. She knew Draco's qualms, but she actually wanted her wand just to conjure the necessary items for her recipe.

"Just name what you need, the elves will get them for you," he snapped a bit too harshly. But recovered by adding, "It would be faster that way,"

"Okay," Luna agreed tentatively. She wrote down a list and handed it to one of the servants. She covered what she was writing with her hand to prevent him from peeking.

He raised an eyebrow, "What are you making?"

"It's a surprise, of course!" she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It ended up that she was making some kind of porridge. If Draco were going to be honest, he wouldn't have touched it if she wasn't the one to prepare it. The gruel looked rather unappetizing, but Luna had insisted. He was unwilling at first, but was then pleasantly shocked to discover that despite the way it looked, the food was quite delicious.

The poor elves were nearly put in cardiac arrest several times for the duration she spent cooking. She'd set several dishrags to fire, and almost let the boiling water overflow the pot. Her antics never ceased to amaze him. She would have cleaned up the mess she left behind had the elves not beat her to it. They didn't want to risk any more accidents.

The house elves brought more plates of cuisine to them.

Even though she had claimed to be ravenous earlier, she failed to finish her meager bowl of porridge. She just watched as he ate, admiring him with unblinking eyes. She sat across from him on the counter eagerly, her head propped up by her elbows. She was beaming at him.

If there was anything in the world that Luna couldn't resist, it was what he was holding in his hand beneath the table.

"Are you done?" he eyed her dishware.

"Yes. I'd have to say I'm quite full,"

"So full you couldn't eat anything else?"

She nodded.

"Shame," he pulled the bowl he had in his hands out and placed it on the surface of the table. He feigned regret, "I'll have to finish this pudding by myself,"

He didn't have a chance to put the spoon into the dessert when she swiped it away. He couldn't stand sweets, but he knew Luna couldn't resist.

"Your mother never lets me have pudding," she explained with disbelief, and popped a spoonful into her mouth. She closed her eyes in excitement and kept the spoon in place as she gave him a gracious look, "Thank you, Draco,"

He watched patiently as she finished off as much as she could of the custard like pastry.

For the first time in many years, Draco gave a genuine smile of happiness. Things were looking up, the love of his life was his. All his.

But before he could properly bask in his glory, someone else entered the room.

"Malfoy," a deep voice interrupted.

He turned around, only to meet the alarmed looking face of his best friend. He ignored the way Luna tensed at his presence, "What is it, Zabini?" he almost growled.

"The Dark Lord— an emergency," Blaise panted, he was out of breath.

"What is it?"

"He's called an urgent meeting," he paused, looking at the woman idly listening with a spoon wedged between her lips, "It's Potter,"

Life felt like it was sucked out of the room, and Draco and Luna held their breaths.

"He's alive,"

**End Chapter 7**

A/N: I hope you didn't skip over the beginning, it's important to both Harry and Luna characters. Draco and Luna are finally adjusting, and fate decides to throw a wrench in it. Sweet Draco can be found in this chapter, but not so much next one. So, what did you think? If you want me to continue, please leave a review or comment.

Someone asked for jealousy in one review, so you had that with Astoria and there's plenty more of that to come. Someone asked for fluff to balance the intensity, so I hoped that was acheived with this chapter. I take reviews pretty seriously and consider all critique. My writing feeds off reviews!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Draco thought for a moment as he took a sip of firewhiskey from his glass, letting the beverage's burning sensation dwell deep in his throat.

The image of Luna's excitement as she heard the Zabini mention the news about Potter's vitality sickened him. It engraved itself into his core, she was far too happy about learning another man was well. He had shot her a look, and her smile dropped.

She was hiding something.

There wasn't time to question her, they needed to go to the Ministry. Their organization had taken the name, but destroyed everything else. By the time Draco and Blaise arrived at the meeting, Lord Voldemort was seething.

No one dared mention it, but it was the Dark Lord's mistake in the first place that the Boy Who Lived was indeed still alive. If he hadn't insisted on tearing Potter up with so many physically damaging curses, they would've been able to properly identify a corpse.

Only classified numbers knew about this new ordeal, it wouldn't do any good to their administration if word broke out to the public.

Harry Potter had been sighted in Hogsmeade, recovered well enough to be recognized. It was just like pompous Potter, confident enough to call attention to himself. It was impossible for him to stay hidden for more than a couple of months. Pathetic. The rest of the conference went uneventfully, there wasn't much to say. They just needed to kill Potter and make sure that he stayed dead this time. It wasn't Draco's fault nor Blaise's incompetency that led to this, they were simply two men dragged into this problem that night.

His first thought after being dismissed was to head back to Malfoy Manor and demand Luna's thoughts on the entire situation. But became petrified at the reasoning that he may not like her explanation.

She wouldn't have cheated on him during their shared period of absence, right?

Luna had always been quite peculiar, but that didn't mean she wasn't vastly popular amongst the male students in Hogwarts. She was a beauty, there was no denying that. Harry Potter was still human, a red blooded male. Draco didn't doubt for a moment that Potter wouldn't have felt the familiar physical lust for the nymph like girl who twirled around campus. He hoped that Potter had enough sense to tame his desires, because otherwise and the Malfoy would be out for blood.

Draco's features darkened as he thought of what Boy Wonder might have tried.

He couldn't bring himself to go home that night, not immediately. He needed alcohol in his system to dull the emotions he was usually so skilled at keeping tamed. He needed control, utter and complete control. He was afraid what he could do to her. There was only so much furniture that stood between him and her in that suffocating room. What could stop him from pushing her into injury that couldn't be healed with a simple spell? If his hands slipped, or his grip had tightened a touch too far.

No, he wouldn't think about something so morbid.

He'd grown up watching his father beat his mother for every little mistake. Draco claimed not to follow his father's example, but was finding it excruciatingly difficult to practice what was preached. He heard stories of what Narcissa was like before becoming a Malfoy; bright and happy, spontaneous and excited. Seeing her so violently forced into submission into a filial wife was terrible. But then again, his mother never even dreamed of committing adultery.

Nonetheless, here he was in an empty bar down Knockturn Alley. He didn't bother pulling his hood over his distinguishing head of hair, those present at an hour and establishment like this were deadbeat drunks. He put his hand over the bottom half of his face in exasperation as he placed another handful of galleons on the counter, signaling the bartender for another round. Many commended him for being able to hold his liquor, but at this moment he found it an inconvenient nuisance. He barely noticed when a soft weight draped itself over his shoulder. He felt a hand on his knee, rubbing up and down his thigh while her nails dug teasingly against the fabric. He didn't even need to turn his body to know who it was.

"Hello, Drake." she purred into his jaw.

"What are you doing here, Astoria?" He was in a foul mood.

The vixen had been throwing herself at him for years, seducing him with every womanly wile she possessed. He'd grown quite fond of her company, she was always willing, no emotional strings attached. The arrangement between them worked nicely, she would provide certain services, and ultimately receive the status that came with screwing a Malfoy.

"I'm getting lonely, you never visit anymore," her voice interrupted.

He scowled, how many times did he need to repeat it? "I'm—"

"getting married, yes." she finished while rolling her eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I know that. But in case you haven't noticed, I have certain needs, ones that only you can satisfy," she smiled wickedly, answering for him by straddling his lap and lacing her arms around his neck. "I don't think your little wife will miss you for too long. Come over, yeah?" she said softly.

He hesitated for an instant. But then again, why not? He was Draco Malfoy. He did what he wanted, took what he wanted, got what he wanted no matter who he stepped on way.

"Alright."

It turned to the early hours of the morning when Draco finally returned home. He apparated back and quietly went to his room, sighing from exhaustion. He wreaked of Astoria's perfume, he couldn't wait to wash away her disgustingly aggressive fragrance. He opened the door, lighting the few candles with his wand.

She had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him, her body still in sitting position with her head tilted from slumber. She had obviously tried to stay up to greet him when he came back, talk about the information that had been revealed before.

A semblance of guilt rushed through him as he realized that Luna was forever loyal to him. She did after all keep the ring on her finger all this time. She loved him, she loved him and no one else. He tugged at his tie and threw it along the dresser, moving toward her sleeping figure. With a soft grip, his arms cradled the girl in his arms and lifted her slowly in the air. She was so fragile, almost weightless as he walked with her toward their bed. He was careful not to wake the blonde as he tucked her underneath the warm covers. A few strands of gold fell misplaced over her angelic visage, his fingers went to brush them away.

He leaned over to kiss her softly before leaving for work again. He had one foot out of the door when he heard it.

"No," she muttered, stirring and turning to her side. She'd been suffering from a number of nightmares, she probably refused the sleeping draught while she stayed up for him. "No," she repeated, her voice thick with worry. _"Harry!"_

A cold sweat had broken across her brow, an expression of concern evident. She stopped, her head relaxing back on her pillow. Her outburst left as suddenly as it came.

The lock clicked as the door shut behind him.

**-p-**

Luna always wanted to have dinner with family and friends, but this evening had not turned out to be quite what she imagined. This was likely because it wasn't her family, nor her friends that she was eating her meal with.

Draco hadn't spoken to her about Harry, she didn't bring it up either. When he came into the room that afternoon, he didn't so much as look at her. She had intended to smooth things out about Harry, but found herself unable to gather enough gall to do it. He was so close to the edge, she didn't want to push him into a rage. She forgot to ask where he had been the previous night when he stoically instructed her to prepare, the Malfoys were having guests over.

Luna was not a judgmental individual, but the past couple hours had been the epitome of an awkward situation. The faces of her enemies and childhood harassers feigned benevolence while exchanging pleasantries. No one coughed 'Looney' under their breath, no one screamed 'blood traitor' with contempt. The moment she looked into the estranged eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange and her snide husband, or looked away from Lucius Malfoy's critical gaze, she began to tremble. These were the people that tried to kill her, they were the people that at one point had tried to end her life. She had been terrified of them for her entire existence, taught to instinctively run away the instant she came into contact with any of them.

Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and the Greengrass sisters were also present. Apparently Crabbe and Goyle were off doing business elsewhere, but nonetheless, it felt like a Slytherin reunion.

The table was long, oval like, one end sat Draco, the other Lucius. Luna sat closely to his right, almost too closely. The rest were spread out along the perimeter. Despite the grand scale and extravagant decorations of the room, it felt like an intimate affair. Everyone was familiar with each other, she the only odd one out. No one seemed disturbed in the slightest about Harry Potter's return, all went about their business in the same way. She remembered what she had read in the papers, that pureblood society had been maintained and continued to prosper. This was all just further confirmation.

It was like being in a house of politicians, words and topics that were exchanged she couldn't quite understand. The entire room was deep in a conversation surrounding the Minister, who Luna terrifyingly realized was title that now belonged to the Dark Lord.

"A protection law was proposed today, says we need to treat the halfbloods with more humanity," Zabini sneered before lifting his glass his perfectly shaped lips. Luna had spent too much time scared of him to really appreciate how pretty Blaise was. "I think we all know what happened to the fool that brought that up,"

Bellatrix cackled wildly, "Our Lord acted as we would all expect,"

Laughter erupted around, all of them sickly amused with the notion that someone had been tortured and killed for advocating for basic human rights.

Luna's hand clenched the hem of her dress underneath the table, the cloth bunching into her fist. She tried not to appear so nervous. She needed to be on her best behavior, she didn't want another reason for her and Draco to fight. She wished he would just talk to her. There was some kind of unsettling tension in his body, he didn't even touch her at all before they arrived in the dining room. She had expected him to hurl insults at her, punish her, hurt her. But instead she received the cold shoulder, and that was more terrifying than anything else.

"A new collection of Muggles have been added to the fountain in the Ministry lobby," Pansy added, pushing a stray curl behind her ear. "But I prefer the artwork that stood in its place before. I don't care to see a bunch of dirty Muggles first thing after I dust the floo powder off my dress,"

Luna visibly winced, hoping that no one had seen it. She remembered Hermione's distress about the magical artwork that displayed Muggles in their 'rightful place'. Poor things, frozen to be gawked at on eternal display; a fate worse than death.

Dinner went on like that for a while. No one seemed the least put off by the fact of Harry Potter's return. It was strange, something that significant should have been a bigger deal in her mind. But this was old society, she guessed nothing changed, not even for the Boy Who Lived.

After everyone had finished eating, the groups split up by gender. Luna attempted to latch tightly onto Draco's arm, but he slid out of her grasp and roughly handed her to his mother. Narcissa came to pry her away, ushering the girl away. Luna stared at his profile, what was wrong with him? He'd been so sweet before, why was he ignoring her like she didn't exist?

She was unaware of the rituals went on, but she didn't want to be in a room with Astoria Greengrass. The dark haired woman had been smirking at her the entire night, flashing her bleach white teeth every time. It was a knowing smile, like there was so forsaken secret hidden behind it.

The ladies congregated in a small room on the Eastern Wing of the mansion. Much to Luna's relief, Bellatrix was eventually summoned to the meeting on the other side of the manor. She didn't care the reason why, she just wanted the woman who murdered so many of her friends to be a safe distance away. But when Narcissa rose from her seat to escort her sister, Luna's complexion paled at the new danger ahead.

She felt like a small mouse being fed to a herd of snakes.

She never thought of what it would be like to sit in the presence of some of the most malicious girls in school. The three girls before her had manipulated and harassed Luna for years. Though not as bad as Astoria, Pansy and Daphne kept exchanging inscrutable glances.

"You look different," Daphne broke the silence first, comfortable enough to uncross her legs and reach down to the table for one of the small pastries. "Prettier,"

Pansy slapped Daphne's hand away before she could get to the sweets on the tray, "If you're going to gorge yourself while on a diet and purge later, do it in your own home. Don't be so rude, we're guests here," she hissed. Daphne looked longingly at the desserts, sheepishly pulling away. "But she's right you know," Pansy turned to Luna, "You do look pretty,"

Luna found herself speechless, unsure how to react. She knew she wasn't hideous, but she never expected these girls to be the ones to compliment her appearance. They never had a kind word to spare, so why now?

"How do you keep so thin?" Daphne had recovered from Pansy's scolding, her hands jabbing at her miniscule waist. She pinched the skin of her stomach, somehow disgusted with what little was there. "I've tried everything, but I can't seem to keep it off."

"It's clear she starves herself, her fork didn't touch her lips once during dinner," Astoria's words slid smooth, but the harshness behind them could be felt.

Luna lowered her eyes, she'd been so stressed about Draco that she hadn't been able to eat. It wasn't intentional, she just felt nauseous anytime she was near anything edible.

"Your ring is stunning, Draco sure went all out," Pansy tried changing the subject in hopes to lighten the mood. Despite her reputation as a cold hearted witch, she still couldn't help but feel bad for the girl trembling before them. She reached over the loveseat to touch the gem that rested on the other woman's finger.

"It's an heirloom, it's not like he handpicked it for her," Astoria sneered.

Luna's eyebrows raised, how did she know it was an heirloom?

Pansy glared at her friend with angry green eyes. They had been given specific orders to befriend the girl, and here Astoria was making it more difficult because of her petty obsession with Draco. In turn, the dark haired woman slumped back against her recliner and crossed her arms, huffing like a stubborn child.

"Are you excited for the wedding?" It was Daphne again. Out of all of them, Daphne seemed the least cruel. She might not have been the brightest of girls, but at least she wasn't evil. She appeared to be genuinely curious. Luna decided she liked her the best.

All of it seemed so far away, a wedding seemed even further along. It had been weeks since she last looked at the piece on her ring finger. She knew Narcissa was planning some event for it all, but she'd been so exhausted during the day to really pay attention.

"Forget the ceremony. Are you excited for your wedding night?" Pansy scooted closer to Luna, a devious grin on her flawless face. "Tell us, is high and mighty Malfoy any good in bed?"

She never had these conversations with her female friends, never. By the time she had even acquired female friends, they were fighting a war. There was no time to gossip about boys, or the intimacy that came with them. She felt her cheeks burn as the blush turned on her skin.

She opened her mouth to find the appropriate response.

"Draco's a fantastic fuck, best I've ever had," Astoria was smirking again, "You know, he has this habit of nipping at the crook of the neck," she took the liberty of sweeping her raven hair to one side of her nape, revealing a set of reddish purple bruises, "he likes to leave his mark. In fact, he's the type of man that loves—"

Her words were spilling out too quickly.

"Enough, Astoria!" shrieked Pansy.

But it was too late, the damage had been done. They all were met with the devastation and realization on Luna's face.

Too late indeed.

**End Chapter 8**

A/N: Drama, drama, drama. If you have any comments, questions, or want me to continue, please leave a review. Thank you for reading!

If you have some time to spare, it would be great if some of you could check out my story, 'The Trap'. It's also Draco/Luna.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

In that instant, her entire world came crashing down around her. She thought the ground beneath her feet was shaking, when she realized it was her own knees buckling as she raced to the door. She couldn't breathe, she needed to get out.

She didn't believe Astoria, it wasn't true.

She knew Draco had been with other girls before her, but that was when things weren't official. After their first night together, the night of his proposal and their engagement, he promised that he would never do anything intimate with another woman again.

She felt something grab her arm as she grabbed the knob to turn the lock. The rest of the room was in an absolute state of panic.

"Are you insane, Astoria? Look at what you've done!" Pansy had her hand around Luna's forearm. "She was kidding, Luna. You know how she jokes," she forced a chuckle as she tried to convince the golden haired girl to sit back down.

Daphne rose to to her feet, usually dull eyes now tempted to jump out. Her normally beautiful face contorted into an expression of pure fear. "He's going to kill us," she whispered quietly to herself.

The younger Greengrass sibling didn't move from the spot she sat, a smug look on her face. "She was going to learn the truth anyways. We're different here, she needs to know how things work."

Luna was weaker than Pansy and was easily thrown back onto the cushioned chair.

"Get Blaise in here! Get him to cast an obliviate spell, maybe he can make sure her memory is wiped clean,"

Astoria's enthusiasm was flat as ever, "He won't help us, he's too loyal. He'll report the truth before going behind Draco's back,"

"Fine, get Theo. I don't care,"

"I should have paid more attention in class," Daphne shook her head, "I should have learned how to cast that spell,"

"Luna, you need to listen to me," Pansy had grasped the girl by the shoulders, forcing her to look at her. "You need to calm down, you're not thinking straight right now,"

A house elf heard the commotion, apparating into the room at once. The creature took one look at the situation and pushed Pansy off of Luna who looked like she was about to faint. "What's wrong with her?" it asked.

The room was beginning to spin, she knew her body needed more air, but her lungs refused to take any. She grabbed the side of her head, a dulled pain pushed on her skull. Something inside her burning chest willed her to stand up, she pushed past the others in the room and flung herself out of the door. She'd done so quickly that no one could intercept her.

She just wanted to be alone, far away from Astoria's smug smile. It was obvious that woman didn't get anything out of confessing the true nature of her and Draco's relationship, from Daphne's outbursts, it was likely they were all going to be reprimanded. Astoria didn't care about retribution or punishment, she'd done it just for the sake of seeing Luna break.

The hallways of Malfoy Manor were overreaching, unwelcoming, and hauntingly dark. They wound a never ending maze of suffocating corridors, each turn somehow leading to a different place than she expected. She didn't know where she was going, she just ran away from the voices that were calling after her from behind her back.

She felt cold, hugging her shoulders as slowed her hurried pace. The noise had stopped, she was by herself between hungry walls ready to swallow her whole. She wandered for a while, how long exactly she would never know. A few minutes, an hour, her feet just carried her to wherever she was going. When she became exhausted enough to collapse, her breathing had hitched. She fell into a nearby wall, sliding down it so she sat on the ground.

She kicked the stilettos off her feet a couple of turns ago, she now stared blankly at her naked toes, wondering how long it had been since she'd walked barefoot. She bit her lip as she remembered how cruel her peers were when she was in school, spiting her and hiding her belongings simply because she was different. Draco hadn't been one to stop the bullying, maybe he would have if they'd met sooner. Someone else had already beat him to it.

Harry.

She remembered the occasion on which her own housemates had tripped her in the Great Hall. The dark haired boy had caught her arm and prevented a collision between her face and the hard ground. He barely knew her then, but he defended her as if she was his best friend. Of course that was what they eventually grew to be: best friends.

An eerie ringing plagued her ears, she almost went to muffle the sounds by covering her ears but stopped when she knew it would being pointless. Instead, her hands went to touch her face. The area around her eyes untouched by tears. How strange, she hadn't been crying. Her body had shut down from the earlier discovery, it was terribly sad. She was hurting so much she couldn't even produce a rehabilitating sob. As she slowly lowered her arms, something scratched her.

Oh yes, the ring.

She couldn't bear to look at it, could anyone blame her?

She knew how it pleased him when she wore it. It made her his, it showed she was his property. Draco had a say in nearly everything she did since the beginning. If it were possible, he would go as far as to regulate how much air was allowed to enter her lungs. It was now abundantly clear that this was no two way street, she had no control over him. He was as selfish and reckless as he had been the day they met.

He didn't care how much he hurt her, he must not have to do what he had.

Anger washed over her, a feeling that was so foreign she barely recognized it. She struggled as she tried to pry the metal band off of her hand. She never wanted to remove it, it had been a sign of their love. Through the entire war, through all of his pureblood supremacy, through all of it she was never tempted to take it off. She'd been so sure of their bond that she kept it. She put more strength into her efforts, but the ring wouldn't budge. Frustration won over as she gave up, she held her hand in front of her face. She glared at it with disdain.

She didn't want to be his, not if being his meant that he was going to be with other women.

She tried one more time, pulling on the band with all the strength she could.

"It won't come off," his deep, masculine voice interrupted.

She could see through her peripherals that he had stepped out from one of the shadows down the hall. How long he'd been waiting there, watching her she had no idea.

Her resentment evaporated, absolutely replaced by fear. She knew she should be furious with him, but the air he carried with him was the sort she knew not to provoke. Somehow the tables turned, it felt like he was the one angry with her. She dropped her arms as she retreated further into the wall behind her, she tucked her feet behind her.

"I take it you have a wonderful time with the girls," he sneered as he got closer. With every step her took, she cringed involuntarily. "I'm sure you had an interesting revelation,"

Before a word escaped her mouth, he had pressed his lips to hers. This kiss was angry, scarily possessive. She had no chance to breathe, she pushed him away with clumsy movements only encouraging him to move further down onto her collar. He was on top of her now, she didn't know how he managed to do so quickly.

Bitterness.

That's what she tasted on his mouth, she mustered whatever strength she had after just awaking and pushed his chest away. His arms caged over her head, palms resting on the vertical surface behind her. This wasn't right.

She stood abruptly, shoving him away at the same time. She scrambled to settle her nerves, the back of her hands applying light pressure to her now swollen lips. He barely moved, only leaning back for a few seconds so she could get up.

He stared at her coldly, completely unfazed by her behavior. His grey eyes darkened, a predator was hunting his prey.

"What's wrong, love? Not feeling it tonight?" he teased with a tone she hadn't heard since she first arrived. He leaned forward to kiss her now swollen lips again but she turned her head to reject him. The last part he breathed so she never heard him, "But I guess you had no trouble denying him, did you?"

"Astoria," was the only word she could manage without crying. Even so, her voice still broke. She felt like she was choking just trying to withstand the heat of his gaze. "I know,"

"Do you?" he had a cruel habit of answering with questions. He always wanted her to spell it out, just because he wanted her to feel the pain of the sentence itself. He might have been one of the most powerful wizards of his generation, but he could be quite diplomatic at times as well. He knew better than the rest the effects words could have on someone. "What is it that you know?" he chuckled darkly.

"You broke our promise," she didn't give him the satisfaction of adding another question to the queue, "You—" a sharp intake of breath, "with Astoria," she nearly gagged as she said it. She felt sick.

He didn't say anything, his eyes boring a hole between hers. Stoic, unemotional, like a beautifully sculpted statue.

"You don't deny it?" she bit back spitefully. She wasn't the type to lose her calm disposition, but this was a matter that meant a great deal to her. It hurt to know he didn't bother to decline or accept her accusations.

"Do you deny breaking it as well?" he spat back at her, poison slowly entering her system as he glowered over her. They were much to close for this discussion, he could feel her chest rising up and down up against his as she breathed heavily.

She didn't understand what he was saying, she shook her head. She never touched another man in her life, not intimately.

"Did you really think you could go calling out another man's name in your sleep and not be discovered? What do you take me for?"

"What are you talking about?" She never even kissed anyone besides him. He was her first, her only lover.

He ignored her and stood up, his superior height allowing him to tower over her. "Poor little Lovegood," his fingers lightly traced the outline of her bottom lip, "always the victim. But you've dug your own grave this time," he brought his face closer, almost to warn her.

That was when she remembered. The nightmare she had about Harry the last day of the war, she screamed his name. Sometimes she yelled it in her dream, other times it was aloud in reality. To think Draco had heard it and saved to mention it now was scheming.

"Harry? This is about—"

Saying Boy Wonder's name again was a dire mistake, it triggered something in Draco. She'd seen many sides to him, from the straight forward to the complicated. But she never saw him look the way he did now.

"Don't say his name in front of me," he snarled in a dangerously calm way.

He was always jealous of her friends, it didn't matter who. 'You're mine' he would say, 'No one else can have you' he would growl.

She stopped. Hadn't he ever thought that maybe he was hers? Perhaps that no one else was to have him?

"I can't trust anything you say anymore," he was panting, the hands that supported his weight had clenched into fists. His knuckles turned a violent white from the pressure inflicted. "You've forced me to resort to measures you know I don't want to use on you. You've brought this on yourself." He shook his head reluctantly before pausing, "Keep still,"

Fear crashed in waves as what he was planning had dawned on her. "Draco, don't—"

She wasn't fast enough to stop his hands as they placed themselves on either sides of her temple, she heard him mutter the incantation under his breath. She could only guess he practiced it regularly during the War.

Legilimency.

She screamed, he ignored it.

The process of digging into someone else's conscious was a painful one. It was like a part of one's soul was being ripped apart, bent to the will of the person invading the privacy and sanctuary that was someone's mind. She could feel him picking apart her memories, reading through them like a book.

This was what Death Eaters did to their enemies.

This was what evil witches and wizards did to torture those they hated.

This wasn't what Draco was supposed to do to her.

Before he could finish, she blurted out the counter spell. The Dark Lord and his forces were infamous for using magic to see other people's most private thoughts and secrets, it was only natural that Harry teach his ranks how to defend themselves against it. She wasn't like Draco, she wasn't skilled enough to fully cast a spell without a wand. But she was able to hinder his efforts and blur certain images.

Too bad she had to think of her instructor to cast the magic out. The image of the green eyed boy burned into Draco's conscious.

After what felt like a century, he pulled out. She wrapped her arms around her head, the pain still lingered. He looked down at her, it was evident he felt no pity. He grabbed her wrist, she could see the Dark Mark on his forearm.

"What are you hiding from me?" How could he be so calm after all that? "Why did you conceal your thoughts from me?" he demanded, his voice didn't shake at all. He was composed and cool, inhuman. She flinched as he slammed his fist into the wall behind her.

She felt like her skull was on fire. "Make it stop," she pleaded, rocking back and forth, hoping that it would somehow make the pain disappear. "Make it stop,"

"You were Potter's whore," He wouldn't raise his volume, it was still only that above a whisper. He kept feeding his paranoia with more lies."With my ring marking you mine, you were still with him."

A part of him died then, right there in that moment.

"Fine," it was spat through clenched teeth.

She felt him shift away from her. He didn't move for his wand to cancel out the side effects of his earlier spell.

"If you want to be a whore, that's what you'll be."

He didn't glance over his shoulder once as he left her there.

**-p-**

"Shh, it's going to be all right," Narcissa soothed, still shaken up even minutes after stumbling upon the spectacle that laid in the room upstairs. The blonde girl refused to utter a syllable, but it wasn't difficult to assess what had gone on the night before.

She immediately ordered a number of house elves to go and fetch some numbing tonic. The older woman hadn't been the one to have a spell synonymous with a curse cast on her, but she could still empathize with the pain that pounded against Luna's head. That, and the fact that she'd experienced the same heart shattering realization that fairytale romances were nothing but shams.

"That's right, just relax," she smoothed the hair that fell over her face as she snatched the bottle away from the servant and brought it to Luna's lips. She tilted the vial so that the medicine would slide down her throat, it was unlikely to be consumed in any other manner. "No one's died from a harmless Legilimency incantation, you're going to be just fine," she sat on the bed next to her pillow. She took notice that half of the bed had remained unslept in. Then again, it didn't look like Luna had caught a wink of rest that night.

Once Luna's breathing stabilized, Narcissa took it upon herself to cast out the elves. She wanted to talk to her future daughter in private. Some things were meant to be discussed in confidence, no matter who it was that was listening in.

"It happens to all young girls in this world, it comes with the territory,"

She didn't respond, not even willing to look at her.

"Things will get better, you'll be okay."

Nargles, Wrackspurts, Crumple Horned Snorkacks, name any dubious creature and she would find faith in them all. Never in her life had Luna not believed.

But for the first time, she found no sense of truth in someone's hollow comfort.

**End Chapter 9**

A/N: Well despite being in control over the characters in my story, I've got to admit that I hate Draco at this point too. But please remember that you're _supposed_ to. Where's the intrigue in a story when every character is clean cut categorized? Everyone deserves to have some good and bad. If you have any questions, comments, or would for me to continue, please leave a review.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It took two to tango.

That had been the thought Draco repeated to himself as he dedicated his time tracking down the Boy Who Lived. His fiancé may have been somewhat complicit in whatever affair took place, but not all blame was to be distributed equally. Luna had suffered already, it was time to make sure the other adulterer had been dealt with. He knew it was Potter who initiated the infidelity. Even a prude like Potter was a conniving cheat next to a girl like Luna Lovegood.

He sat alone in his large offices in the Ministry. He'd spent the duration of the past day following any leads he dug up on Harry Potter's whereabouts. He asked for the case specifically. There were various sightings, the documents placed him in different locations. His childhood rival turned fatal enemy never stopped in more than one place for very long.

Almost like Potter was looking for something.

The young Malfoy wanted to be the one to take the infamous rebel down. He would earn the glory of slaying a long time enemy of his Lord, while at the same time receiving the personal revenge he craved. Malfoys were sensible, and what could have been more practical than killing two birds with the same stone?

He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he knew he was too harsh with Luna. Sometimes the carefree front she put up hid her brittleness away. He always forgot how vulnerable she really was. He wasn't worthy of her, he knew this from the very beginning. Yet she continued to pursue him, something so small and defenseless going after something as corrupted as him.

She never ceased to amaze him, even after all these years. Despite being exposed to his wicked, spiteful manifestation, she remained pure. That was what threw him off the edge.

How could she feel so untainted, uncontaminated when she had cheated with another man? At least she had some form of forewarning, Draco was known for his selfish and sinister behavior. He never considered himself a virtuous human being, it was more likely for him to make commit treachery and cover it with deceit. But her, this entire scandal had jumped out of him without the slightest notice.

He opened himself up to her, lowered his defenses for her. No one else in existence had gotten as far into his life as she did. She wounded him in the way only she could, his heart, his soul was exposed to her exclusively. And this was how she repaid him.

The worst part of all of this was he still loved her.

He was going to fight for her, he was going to keep her forever. His ownership would never be threatened again. He'd be damned if he was going to let anyone touch what was his again.

**-p-**

"Don't frown like that," the brunette shot a sad smile at the younger girl, "You should be happy, you look beautiful," she reasoned.

Luna stared aimlessly at the reflection that gazed back at her from three different angles. She stood atop a small podium, layers of extravagant white fabrics gathering at her waist before cascading down onto the floor. Pansy lifted her arms and clipped a long lace veil that almost blended in with her light blond hair. It covered the sullen look in her eyes.

A week had passed since the incident in the hallway. The physical pain had slowly melted away, but her memory was still marred by their last encounter. She'd never heard Draco speak to her like that, look at her like that. She'd seen him every night after that, but he would just climb into bed beside her with his back facing her. The one time they caught eye contact, she could see the apologetic nature and regret. While Narcissa and the rest of the women claimed Legilimency was common practice of interrogation amongst old fashioned couples, Luna knew Draco never thought that. He treasured her for so long, it was difficult to believe he would actually do something to harm her.

She fingered the diamond ring on her hand again, she found herself constantly fiddling with it. She spun it around the perimeter of her delicate fourth digit, occasionally attempting to pull it off. She didn't know why she kept trying, she was never successful in removing it.

The aftermath of that dinner that night had been fatal. Despite appearing unashamed for sleeping with Astoria, he hadn't appreciated the information being revealed to Luna without his permission. Luna hadn't been there to witness it, but she decided to take Pansy's word for it when she gossiped about his brutality. She hadn't seen so much of the Greengrass sisters since. Luna thought of how afraid Daphne had been. She wished the poor girl wouldn't have been dragged down for her sister's mistakes.

The wedding was continuing as planned, on what schedule no one besides Narcissa was sure. Her future mother in law had been so busy lately with coordinating the event that Luna had been assigned a new babysitter.

"Luna?" It was Pansy again, her dark olive eyes brimmed with something Luna swore was sincerity.

Parkinson had been spending more and more time with Luna, and had become rather comforting company. Luna knew it didn't justify the other girl's inexcusable behavior in school, but these elite families were extremely selective. People like these were raised and brainwashed with the disparaging mentality of those with Muggle heritage. It was no wonder their children acted the way they did, treating others in the manner they had.

Today the pair was out in Knockturn Alley for the first of Luna's dress fittings.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Luna squeaked as she lifted the sheer cloth from her face to turn to her newfound acquaintance. She did this often now, becoming distracted with her own thoughts and drifting away from present conversation.

"I asked if you like this design," Pansy repeated as she gestured to the gown that hung on Luna's body.

Luna cocked her head, turning it to the side as if it would help her see any better. She was a resilient girl, she needed to tuck her chin out and deal with it. She became distracted with something else in the mirror. "Don't I look a bit unwell?" she mentioned. Her hand came up to touch the dark shadows beneath her eyes.

"Of course not," she assured. "You look gorgeous,"

"Thank you," It felt like people were paying her compliments all the time now. She didn't understand why, nothing about her had changed.

"If you don't know, there's still plenty time to think. I think Mrs. Malfoy just wanted to allow you a chance to choose before she organized the rest of the reception," she patted her back.

They'd become more comfortable around each other, almost like friends. One would likely scoff at a comparison between Hermione Granger and Pansy Parkinson, but Luna truly believed they were similar. Hermione was bookish, determined, and studious. Pansy was the same, just in a slightly different sense. Pansy knew everything about everyone in their social collection. Luna assessed that Pansy's goals were no easier achieved that Hermione's were. It was easy to see that Pansy's knowledge had only been acquired after years of dedicated practice and manners.

Luna undressed with the help of several attendants and hastily slipped into her regular attire moments later. She winced as she stepped down onto level ground, the pressure proved too much on her injured ankle. She remembered the time she was running late for an appointment with Narcissa. She misplaced her heel, wiping out on the long flight of stairs. He'd been heading upstairs at the same time, catching her effortlessly on her way down as she fell into his chest. It was times like that when neither of them could really recall what was going on. It was instinctive, he scolded her for being reckless, telling her she needed to be more cautious. "What would you do without me?" he teased lightly under his breath. But the nostalgia lasted only seconds. They pulled away as soon as he set her down safely. He just stalked off after that without another word. Distracted by the image of his retreating back, she fell and landed on her foot again at the wrong angle. She didn't tell him.

He must have told someone not to let her wear high heels anymore. Any shoe with any semblance of a stiletto had been removed from her closet by the time she returned to their room. They had been replaced new pairs of flats with safer supports.

Most healthily minded people would find his habits controlling, but she knew him well enough to find it endearing.

She hated it because she found herself thinking him as kind again. He made the most cardinal of mistakes, yet she always turned around to see the almost nonexistent good. Even the smallest of sliver of gestures appeared like the grandest movements in the world.

Forgiveness was in her nature, it was inevitable fact. She would forgive him, they both knew that. But forgiveness wasn't always enough, because forgive as she may, she hardly forgot.

"Come on, let's go," Pansy guided her out of the tiny boutique. They walked out empty handed, Luna was too distracted to concentrate and choose a dress. Luna pretended not to see Pansy roll her eyes when Luna thanked the small elf that held the door open for them.

As they stepped out onto the street, Luna couldn't help but feel like her breath being sucked away from her body. Knockturn Alley, renowned for being an epicenter of implicit dark magic had been completely reconstructed. Now it felt no different than its contrasting counterpart, Diagon Alley before the War. For a new order to be held, everything had to be replaced. Shops lined the sidewalks, wizards and witches strolling down from each direction. The sky was unfittingly bright, barely a cloud in sight. Everyone was chattering away, as if the fighting had been over for years instead of months. It was too normal, it scared her.

Luna's feet froze when she spotted two familiar faces in the crowd. It was Cho Chang and her friend Marietta Combs, her prior Housemates. Both of them had been members of Dumbledore's Army, both of them had been protected by Harry. But here they were, enjoying their life like nothing was wrong. She clenched her tiny fists until she realized she had been doing the same.

If anything, she was the worst traitor of them all. Few knew of her relationship with Draco before, she could only imagine the reactions of her old friends when they found out she was marrying one of the most influential Death Eaters in Lord Voldemort's circle.

She hung her head in shame, hoping Cho wouldn't recognize her. She was glad for the contrasting tastes between her own style and the one she had adopted because they didn't see her. She let out a long sigh of relief after they passed.

It was rare to be let out of the Malfoy estate, she was sure that she was supposed to be locked up. She knew Draco thought to protest when Narcissa had brought the trip up, but kept his mouth shut.

Pansy was anxious when she was around the Lovegood girl. To be honest, she had grown rather fond of her. For some reason, Luna didn't exude ulterior motives, Pansy had no need to keep her guard up. She guessed that was why Draco had been so smitten with her. It was uncommon amongst people like them for someone to be so innocent, so naïve. But as she was given the duty to keep track of Luna, she was apprehensive to accept. She knew a Death Eater was following their every move just as a safety precaution, but she didn't want to think of what would happen to her fate if something did happen. Draco wouldn't hesitate to send a curse down her spine if she lost Luna.

They locked arms as they crossed the road.

Luna spotted something peculiar.

"What is this?"

Pansy followed Luna's gaze to the building beside them. "Gringotts," she stated in a tone that offered no greater elaboration.

"But why here?" the blonde asked while stopping her steps. "Wasn't it on Diagon Alley? Why did they move it?" It was the exact same structure, almost as if the identical building had been picked up and dropped off at a new location. The sign, the doors, all of the bank was the same.

Pansy shushed Luna, "Don't talk about that. Our Dark Lord has eradicated those places, they were polluted. As far as we know, this" she motioned to the bank, "has been here forever." She looked serious.

Maybe if pollution constituted of muggleborns and half bloods.

Luna nodded, not completely understanding but unwilling to press further. She shivered at the thought of ever meeting the Dark Lord. She shifted as she looked around her shoulders, "Where are we going?"

"We're going shopping. Apparently you need new shoes," Pansy stopped dead along their path in front of a shop window.

"Look Luna," she gushed. They paused in front of a shop window, her arm unhooked with Luna's for a split second as she pressed her hands onto the glass to properly admire the jewelry on display. "Aren't these magnificent?" She pointed to one of the sparkling necklaces sitting in the front. "I was hinting Theo about my birthday gift, wouldn't this be perfect?"

No answer came.

Pansy slowly averted her gaze, only to find the spot Luna had been standing in before vacant.

Her heart dropped.

The unidentifiable force came out of nowhere and grabbed her shoulder, jerking the petite woman away from her companion. A hand clamped over her mouth to stop her from making any loud noises, before she knew it she had been pushed into an abandoned alcove. Her attacker's grip was light, almost like he was careful not to hurt her. Luna knew she should have been afraid, but for some reason she wasn't. She didn't struggle out of his grasp, she just peered ahead with enlarged blue orbs. All of it happened so quickly she couldn't process any of it.

"Luna?" Pansy's shrieked loudly in blatant panic a few yards away. "Luna!" she repeated in a fluster.

Even at this distance, Luna could hear the sounds of distress through the street.

"How could you let this happen?" She was probably talking to the security detail that the Malfoy's had hired to trail them. She felt the air above them blacken, several Death Eaters must have apparated nearby. "Luna!"

She blocked the background out as she concentrated on the matter at hand. She couldn't see anyone before her, but Luna was positive there was someone standing right before before her. This presence, it was somehow familiar. She could feel his heavy breath as he panted, she sensed simultaneous exasperation and relief. She blinked pointedly, trying to decipher what was going on. Instincts were instincts, but she knew better than to trust a stranger. As the hand slowly removed itself from her lips, she immediately parted her mouth and readied herself to call for help.

But the cling of light metal falling onto the stone cobbled floor by her feet stopped her. The long breath she had inhaled to ready her scream was taken away.

It was only for a moment, but her eyes flicked to the ground to see the unmistakable framed spectacles. A piece of tape held together the portion that would sit on the bridge of his nose. Luna bent down to retrieve them, but in a flash the glasses had again disappeared under a cloak of nothingness.

Hearing he was alive was nothing compared to being able to confirm it in person.

"Luna!" She could hear Pansy's voice call, but she paid it no attention, for something more compelling held her conscious.

He must have heard it too, because without so much of a warning, he tried to gently shove Luna back out onto the light of the main street and flee. But she was faster than him, she latched onto the arm that earlier held her shoulder. She couldn't see him, but her wide, blue eyes stared up into the place she pictured his gaze.

Her fingers clutched to his sleeve, it was really him.

"Harry?"

**End Chapter 10**

A/N: A reader suggested I put this story under a "M" (mature) rating. What do you guys think, would love to hear your opinion on it. Their reasoning was the language used in this story, particularly in Chapter 8 and 9. I mean, I guess some of it could be offensive, but I don't believe the profanity to be so extreme. I'm considering the switch, but it would help if I got your thoughts on it.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you would like me to continue.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your patience and understanding with this chapter. This installment is quite a great deal longer, so I hope it makes up for the wait. I hope you like it!

**Chapter 11**

It all happened so quickly.

Not even the Great Harry Potter could stop this disaster.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go, but whatever control he maintained over these past months had been discarded in the instant he saw her standing there on the street. She was all he could think of since he woke up that night in Bulgaria. The Wizarding World's posterity rested on his shoulders, and he was willing to risk it all for her. He was too distracted to fulfill the duty the Prophecy had declared for him, he was in crisis.

So many had perished, all of them martyrs who sacrifices their lives to ensure his longevity, to ensure that he could go on to defeat Voldemort. The unprecedented pressure of the world weighed on his weak shoulders since the age of eleven, and over the past decade, it had only grown exponentially.

Everyone counted on him to finish what he never started, but he failed miserably. Voldemort had succeeded, and Harry had lost.

No one understood what he was experiencing, nobody ever could. But just as he had surrendered himself over to the depths of his mind and pushed everyone he loved out of his life, _she_ stumbled across his path. He dedicated their meeting to fate, she said it was the Nargles.

With buttercork caps strung around her slender neck and peculiar radishes dangling from her ears, she had been the one to singlehandedly pull him out of his depression. The light that twinkled in her bright eyes demonstrated to him that there was always something to live for. She went more than her fair share of despair, yet she never complained. She was always laughing, always cheerful.

He needed her again, now more than ever. He asked to see her during his recuperation. But Hermione and Ron would just lower their eyes, saying they possessed no solid knowledge of her whereabouts. Countless comrades turned into statistical casualties, either deemed dead or missing.

Even Ginny seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.

But Harry was sure Luna was safe, he made Neville vow to protect her with his life. It wasn't until a week later when the battered Longbottom stumbled into the isolated cottage alone that Harry realized he was wrong.

No blow of devastation hit him harder. There were limited scenarios for those unaccounted for after the War. At best, she was being held prisoner. Despite being a known Blood Traitor, Luna was a pureblooded witch, perhaps her life was spared. The latter possibility never needed to be stated aloud. Hermione became desperate, Harry was thankful for her concern. After all, his brunette headed friend had always been the one to keep him grounded. When his judgement was clouded, Hermione was always there to brighten his scope. But not this time. Nothing could make losing Luna any better.

In an effort to show him that the rest of the world was still moving forward, Hermione would deliver him a copy of the Daily Prophet every morning. To provide his friends with some peace of mind, he would pretend to read. He skimmed its contents aimlessly, only holding the newspaper up long enough until they left the room. By chance he landed on the Society page, he scoffed at the headline. It was reporting some engagement between a high ranking Death Eater and his school time sweetheart. He was about to throw the article on the floor, when he read the name of the blushing bride-to-be.

Now knowing she was still alive, he couldn't rest until he found her.

It was reckless, impulsive, and dangerous. Sure enough, the secrecy of his survival was compromised in Hogsmeade while searching for her several weeks ago. His sources were unreliable, he couldn't pinpoint her location. He jumped around from place to place, eventually wandering around the remains of the Leaky Cauldron, Neville had stated that was where he lost Luna to Bellatrix Lestrange and her mob of mindless followers. There was nothing but an empty compound left in the place of the once bumbling bar and hostel. In fact, the entirety of Diagon Alley had been reduced to abandoned lots, every building razed and burned to ashes.

But just as his wrist was in mid flick to disapparate, he heard her voice. It should have been an amazing that he could recognize it from such a distance, after so long. She was speaking to another whose voice he remembered to belong to Pansy Parkinson, a cruel, haughty girl that patronized anyone she thought she could disparage. When he followed their voices, he crossed over into dangerous territory, Knockturn was the renowned capitol of Voldemort's new empire, his base of operations. Harry disregarded the potential danger and hid the cover of his invisibility cloak. That alone was the only precaution he took.

He was only supposed to look from afar, to just get close enough to make sure that she was okay. The deal he cut with Hermione was air tight, she was was reluctant to let him leave alone, but powerless to stop him from going. Her distress was understandable, all of his wounds were still raw, the most serious of his inflictions merely stitched to mend him back together.

He had pulled her away without thinking of the repercussions, he just had to be alone with her, to make sure that she was real. By the time he was aware of his mistake, it was too late.

"Harry?"

It was strange really, she peered directly into his eyes, as if she could see him. It was impossible, no human could see through the cloak. But then again Luna always defied the impossible.

He breathed in her scent, finding it mixed with the familiar cologne of another he recognized well. His top lip curled back in contempt.

Draco Malfoy. Vile, Pompous, foul, arrogant, Pureblooded racist. He was the epitome of what Harry wished to rid the planet of. They'd been rivals from the start, a peaceful coexistence was on the table. They disagreed on any possible topic, even as children they knew they would never get along.

How they ended up falling in love with the same woman, there would never be an answer. Not even Merlin could figure that one.

"It's you, isn't it?" her grasp tightened as she bunched the fabric in her tiny hand.

He felt her hand on his sleeve. Her touch burned, searing his skin. He immediately pulled away, forcing her hand away. He stepped back. This wasn't safe, for either of them. He'd assessed four Death Eaters nearby, other guards possibly on their way. He was outnumbered, only armed with a newly acquired wand he wasn't used to wielding.

He began to panic.

If he was captured, that was it. Voldemort would see his death out a million times over this time to assure he stayed deceased for good. And what if Malfoy found out? The bastard was always jealous, obsessive. Harry couldn't imagine what he would do to Luna.

But in that moment, Luna didn't seem to care. She he did something so signaturely Luna that only she could pull if off. She was sure it was him, she was finally seeing her dear friend again. After believing him gone, he was back. It was like she had no other worry in the world. She smiled.

He fumbled to form words as all of it caught in the back of his throat. There wasn't time for things like this, but he couldn't help it. He never could, not when she was involved. "You look well," he managed to croak out. It was an honest statement, she did look good. She was dressed differently, more mainstream, elegant, fashionable. She looked every bit like a wife of a prestigious, insufferable Malfoy should. She appeared different, but it suited her.

The edges of her lips only curved up as she heard him speak.

"Thank you," her head tilted to the side, a mannerism he noted she had when she was in a pensive state. "I would tell you the same, but I can't see you,"

He might have laughed if it weren't for the mirage of other emotions attacking his mind.

Dark smoke swirled overhead immediately, reality was starting to set in again. What grave had he dug for himself? He couldn't do much in this kind of situation. He should've listened to Hermione, he shouldn't have come in the first place. As much hatred Harry carried for Malfoy, he knew that the blond haired man cared for her. She wouldn't have been dead. He should have just waited until he had regained his strength, recovered his numbers to start another uprising. This was purely irresponsible, selfish. And he was going to pay for it dearly.

When he didn't respond, she looked confused.

"Harry?" she repeated, now looking from one shoulder to the other. "Where are you?"

His mouth went dry with what he knew he had to do. "I'm sorry,"

She paled at those words, it was the same apology he gave before preparing for his own death. She instinctively took a large step forward, her hands extending to reach for him again.

"Harry," her lips trembled.

"I'll be back for you," Every retreating step backward sent a crash of guilt into his heart. But this was necessary, there wasn't another option. "I promise, just stay safe until then," he forced it out. Saying it tasted bitter. He desperately wanted to take her with him, but he knew he couldn't. He wasn't even sure if she'd be willing to go with him. Another pang shot through him, maybe she wanted to marry Malfoy.

She was quiet.

"I'll be back," he said again. "You know I'll be back." Was he assuring her, or himself?

"No," she shook her head, her volume almost inaudible. "You can't go,"

He just came back, she couldn't let him leave before even saying 'hello'. What if he didn't return, what if he _died_? Harry was a powerful wizard, but she wasn't about to underestimate the Voldemort's ability, or Draco's. Not again.

For a second he thought he might just let her persuade him to stay, but then it happened.

An assault of curses flew through the air, not at all a foreign sensation. The spells came from all directions. Years of training and endurance had allowed Harry to adapt quickly, he pulled out his weapon and countered them with his own incantations.

Luna was oblivious, her eyes still focused on the place he stood. "You can't go," she was adamant, her heels firmly in place. "Please don't go,"

He supposed she didn't have a wand anymore, she stood there pleading him to stay. Her presence was a clear and obvious target. He spotted the hooded figure on the roof of one of the structures next to them. His fierce green eyes fell to her form in fear.

Before he could push her out of the way, she dropped the ground.

Her body lay limp. Or worse, dead.

Everything stopped as she spread across the stone cobbled ground. A mess of long flaxen waves covered the floor, fanning out across her face. She might have cried out in pain, but no one heard. Everyone was petrified as it became known who'd just been hit with a deadly curse. Harry was in a helpless trance, the wand slipped from his hand, clattering on the ground.

A shrill voice sliced through the thick air that had settled. It hurt his ears, but he remained expressionless.

It was Parkinson again. By this point the fighting had ceased abruptly. Harry wasn't sure why there had been any fighting to begin with, no one could have seen him. Luna was different, she was the only one who knew he was there. "Luna," Pansy let out breathlessly as she hurried into the alleyway. "What happened to you?"

She kneeled down next to the blond girl, checking the pulse on her wrist. She pressed her ear against Luna's seemingly unmoving chest. Pansy let the tension out of her lungs, but only slightly.

"What the hell?" came a male voice.

A dark trail of smoke disappeared as a figure apparated into the narrow section. Blaise Zabini entered, handsomely clad in a formal suit. He strode in with a overpowering presence, his shoulders leading him in.

Harry still hadn't found the strength to move, his eyes were wide, still staring at the petite girl by their feet. Only a distance of a few meters separated them.

"What happened here?" Zabini demanded, his eyes narrowed as he assessed what he could on his own.

"I don't know," tears stained Pansy's face, but that was the only indication of her distress. She held a stone cold expression, carelessly wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand as she swallowed the lump in her throat. "We can figure that out later. She's unconcious, but I think she's still breathing. We need to get her back to the Manor for treatment. "

Blaise didn't need further explanation as he approached the two women. He glared at the now quivering bunch of Death Eaters who had gathered behind the corner wall. "You lot will be dealt with later." then he shot them an cruel, wolf like grin, "Run if you want, but we'll find you," He yanked Pansy off her knees, though mindful not to hurt her, and bent down to scoop Luna into his arms.

And in the blink of an eye, just like that, they were gone.

The pathetic excuse of Voldemort's loyal followers scampered away as soon as trio disapparated.

It was silent.

The Boy Who Lived was now The Boy Left Alone.

**-p-****  
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Draco crushed his palm into hers, his fingers lacing with her frigid ones. He brought her cold hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles gently.

This wasn't an unfamiliar scene for this couple, in fact they'd been placed in exact situation many times before.

She used to spend nights next to him in the Hogwarts infirmary, sitting in a chair while he slept. She would hold his hand the entire time, her touch was the only thing that could ease him into slumber. He never asked her for any of it, rather he ordered her not to. But she did so anyway. She lost hours of her own sleep in the comfort of her bed, she skipped breakfast to assure him just a few more minutes of bliss, she forgot to study her exams and risked a failing mark in Potions.

She thought he was sick, and she healed him.

It was the same scene, one of them lying on a mattress, the other sitting in a chair by their bedside. Only this time, the positions had switched. The circumstances had changed.

Draco had stormed into their room in a fury only moments after receiving the news.

_"Some idiot we hired to tail the girls thought Luna was being attacked. He shot a curse and it unintentionally landed on her,"_ Zabini explained.

He didn't need to listen to anything else. He callously shoved his way through the small crowd the congregated around the bed. House elves were scrambling around, carrying whatever useless potions they would brew to the nightstand. As he passed Parkinson, he nearly set his wand on her until Blaise caught his arm to stop him.

The darker skinned boy gripped Draco tightly, talking lowly so only he could hear, "It wasn't Pansy's fault. You can take it out on whoever was responsible later, but there are more important matters to attend to now,"

More important matters indeed.

He barked at everyone to get out, they all obeyed without question. Most pureblooded folk didn't visit hospitals, it was unsanitary. Saint Mungos tended to patients of all different races, even those with dirty blood and mixed heritage. He ordered someone to call for the Malfoy family physician.

He'd been waiting about ten minutes before a knock came on the door. Draco didn't bother answering it, and it swung open without warning. A short, senile looking man came in with his back hunched from age. He was severe looking, and had been rather terrifying when Draco was a child. He ignored the boy's presence as he rolled up the sleeves of his robes and dropped his briefcase on the foot of the bed.

"Aillun," Draco greeted stoically, his chin dipped down a bit before returning back up. He was never fond of the doctor, but if anyone could get the job done right, it was him. He'd served the Malfoys for several generations. He was by far the most proficient in his field, and the best money could afford.

"Draco," he answered curtly in turn.

Draco watched wordlessly, his hand clinging tighter onto Luna's. While Aillun was busying himself with equipment and his notes, Draco took the chance to sweep over her body again. The methodical rise and fall of her chest was shallow, it looked burdensome to breathe.

Her cherubic face resembled tranquility at its greatest, her eyes gently closed, curtained by thick sets of dark blond lashes. His line of vision moved up towards her temple, his long fingers went to brush her bangs out of place. An obviously angry, purplish blue hue had begun to form at the side. He frowned deeply before trying to trace the mark's outline, wondering how painful it was, when Doctor Aillun's hand swatted his away.

"Don't touch her yet," he scolded.

Draco's defined jaw set as he bit back a crude remark. Luna was his, he didn't need anyone telling him what he could or could not do with her. He complied with his wishes nonetheless, though somewhat reluctantly.

Aillun went on with the examination. The older man tapped her forehead with the edge of his wand on various occasions, murmuring a healing spell every minute or so. This continued for another half hour , even with the doctor's poking and prodding, contact between future husband and wife was never broken. The pad of his thumb rubbed over the ring on her finger. He thought of the disagreement between them. She was so small, breakable, he regretted the way he treated her. She didn't deserve it.

Eventually, Aillun climbed off the bed, placing his instruments back into his case. He clipped the locks by the handle shut. Draco waited for the diagnosis.

"The damage is uncertain," was the only conclusion he got.

"What?"

"This," he gestured to the wound on the top side of Luna's brow, "I cannot fix. The hit to her head was caused by magic for which I have no spell to correct. It will have to heal on its own with time,"

"So it _will_ heal?" Draco searched for confirmation.

"The physical bruise, yes," He paused, clearing his throat in preparation. "But it appears some more extensive injury has been brought to the interior of her skull. The curse she was hit with amplified any magic that had been preformed on her. Any recent spells she's been put under would have escalated dramatically," he clarified.

He gritted his teeth, now more frustrated than ever. The Legilimency. The spell was normally a painful one, when he cast it he was careful not to pry too deep. Many wizards had been tortured to a state of mind that could never be recovered. He only went as far as he needed. If this curse had actually escalated its effects, the results could be serious.

"So what's going to happen?" he asked, a bit anxiously. Though the unfazed mask of an expression covered any signs of discomfort.

Aillun stood erect at full height, only reaching Draco's shoulder despite the younger man still being seated. "Like I've said, the damage is uncertain. I will not know the extent of the mental damage until she wakes up,"

His words offered no comfort.

"Call me when she does," In a poor attempt to show compassion, Aillun clamped his hand down on Draco's shoulder. "Don't think too much of it before you know for sure. It's best to keep hopeful,"

He only nodded in response, his grey eyes fixed on Luna once again. He stroked her hand again, back and forth, and then repeated the process. Draco thanked the doctor before he let himself out of the room.

All there was left to do, was to wait. And wait by her side, he did.

**-p-**

Draco woke up with a start a few hours later, the pleasant warmth of her hand in his suddenly pulled away. His eyes slit into a glare and his lips formed a scowl out of habit. He reflexively reached out to grab the hand that had left his grasp.

"Let go of me," her soft voice ordered steadily. It was unfitting of her to speak so aggressively. It sounded sad more than harmful.

No longer disoriented from his sleep, his eyebrows raised as he realized what was going on. He looked at her with a scrutinizing glare, he observed quietly while she jumped off the mattress and used the bed to set a physical barrier between them.

"Luna," he started warily. He was at a loss as to how to act, he wasn't quite expecting her to regain consciousness so early. He needed to be careful of what he said, what he did.

"What happened?" she asked, her blue eyes filled with fear. A sick part of him relished in that fear, he owned that emotion. She was afraid of him. He guessed that would never change.

"You were struck by a crossfire curse."

She looked confused. "I don't remember that,"

As she backed further away and her back hit the wall behind her, she suddenly grabbed her head. She whimpered lightly in agony as her skull felt like it was splitting in two.

Upon seeing this, Draco was already up from his seat. In the blink of an eye, he crossed the length of the room with long legs to meet her. She nearly collapsed and he caught her just in time. He propped her up, allowing her weight to slack onto his chest. He snaked his arms around her shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down her side in circles. "Shh," he hushed soothingly, "It's alright, you're okay," He felt her hands push against him, she was trying to get away from him.

"Don't touch me," she whispered.

Not wanting to give her further reason for a breakdown, he relinquished his hold on her. She shook like a leaf as he pulled away, only giving him further inclination to embrace her again. But he restrained himself, waiting.

"Get back under the covers," He found himself commanding her again, but he couldn't help it. He softened the edge to his tone, hoping she would understand, "It's warmer beneath the blankets, it's colder out here,"

She stopped for a moment, considering his offer. She raised her eyes to meet his, unsure of his intentions.

"Just do it," a tinge of exasperation was hidden in his voice.

She nodded, hoisting herself back onto the bed. She pulled the comforter over her body, she watched him the entire time. He moved to properly fix the sheets, as she'd thrown them on herself carelessly. She shied away from him, and he backed away again.

"Luna," he addressed firmly.

Her arms still wrapped around her head, she winced as her hand accidentally brushed against the bruise.

"Luna," he said again after she didn't respond, "I'm not going to hurt you." When he tried to approach her again, she slid back. "What's wrong with you?"

"You're lying," She wasn't looking at him now. She had pulled the covers over her body, she hid her face from him. Her words were muffled by the sheets, "You say you won't, but you always do,"

"What?" He stood back, his arms folded tightly. "What are you talking about?" He decided it would be best to call Aillun now. He swiveled around to go for the door, when she stopped him.

"You always hurt me,"

She was always terribly honest. But this was something different, brutal almost.

He tried to dismiss the guilt that swelled in his ribcage. He knew he left her with deep scars, but he justified his actions always saying it was her who dealt the first blow. But both of them knew he was wrong. An affair with Potter or not, it shouldn't have been his business. He wasn't there when she was with Harry. He'd slept with Astoria out of spite, and he'd done it while they were still together. He thought she betrayed him, while deep down he knew he'd done her wrong a thousand times worse.

He groaned disconcertingly. He ran a hand across the bottom portion of his face, taking in a deep breath.

What had to be done, needed to be done.

He went to the the edge of the bed, ripping the comforter away from her body. She fought to keep it, but like always, he was stronger. She tried to get away from him, but he effortlessly encircled both her wrists roughly with one hand. She struggled to escape it, to run down out of the room, to simply disappear. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't having any of it.

"Listen to me," the authority in his tone forced her to stop, but she still refused to look into his eyes. Impatient with the whole situation while still trying to balance his temper he tried to soften his words, "Luna," he took a breath, "Look at me while I'm speaking to you,"

He gingerly urged the bottom of her chin up with his index finger. Pale blue met dark silvery grey.

She bit her bottom lip, unable to look away.

He took a deep breath before going on. "I need you to forgive me,"

She scanned his features with incredulity, she searched for a hint of a cruel joke. But he was serious as Grim Reaper himself. He leaned forward as their foreheads met together.

"I'm sorry,"

If any words between them had ever held any significance, these were them. Draco lamented his actions, he felt bad for the things he'd done. But not once had she ever heard him utter those two words in succession and truly mean them. He wasn't the type apologize for anything, it wasn't him.

"I want us to improve. I just need you to forgive me, so we can move forward," He proceeded to let go of her hands as he held them around her figure. She stiffened, unsure how to react under these conditions. But suddenly she felt herself relax against him, her trembling arms meeting behind his neck. She lowered her head so her chin rested on his shoulder.

"Okay,"

She paused. She was never able to be at odds with him for very long. He was too charming, sometimes she despised him for it.

"I forgive you,"

She felt the triumphant smirk on his face without even having to look up to see it.

Then he did something that he hadn't done in what felt like an eternity. He kissed her, gently, passionately, deeply. It was innocent, with a slightly more mature undertone. But still, it was just kissing. And it was wonderful. The session carried on, the moment getting more heated as time went on. But she had to stop him.

"Wait, Draco," she moved back, breaking contact between their lips. "I can't,"

He opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off.

"My head," she explained. "It hurts,"

He had completely forgotten. "Of course," he said understandingly. "I'll call the Doctor," He pushed himself off the mattress as he slid his legs over the side. "But you know, I'm relieved," he looked over his shoulder. "With what happened today, the consequences could have been much worse,"

"I see," she bobbed her head, though it was clear she didn't understand what he was saying.

He was indeed relieved. Brain damage wasn't something to take lightly, especially when it was induced by dark magic. He was glad she still in tact, still Luna.

"Draco," she interjected, "One more thing before you go,"

"Yes?" He asked, smirking slightly as he fastened the top buttons by his collar. Innocent as she looked, Luna had been able to undo his shirt without him noticing. He looked down at the floor, ready to stand up.

"Do tell Daddy that I'm all right. You know how he gets when I'm sick, just tell him I'm okay. Send my love,"

He froze.

No, just as he thought she was okay.

His lips pressed together, forming a line. His muscles tightened, "Try to get some rest, I'll be back soon,"

"Is something wrong?"

_'Don't think too much before you know for sure'_, Aillun had told him. He would try to follow his advice as best he could.

"No, nothing's wrong," he assured. He turned halfway, placing a light peck on her forehead.

But that was just another lie.

Xenophilious Lovegood was murdered. He'd been dead now for over three years.

**-p-**

Memory gaps, that was what Doctor Aillun had identified as the problem.

It wasn't full on amnesia, nor was it just huge chunks of time missing from her mind. They were little things, her conscious had replaced true, presumably more traumatic times with fake ones. Nothing was obvious, there was no way of telling what memories she had lost.

Luna thought her father was still alive, despite having known he was gone for years. Nothing else around that issue had changed.

Then there was that evening dinner, after he found her in that Hallway. She didn't remember that either, only that Astoria had uncovered his infidelity and that she fainted afterwards.

Also the incident where she'd been cursed by that Death Eater. She didn't even remember leaving the house with Pansy that morning.

For now, those were the only memories they knew she was missing.

Draco decided it would be best not to say anything, at least, not for now. Not when she was in such a fragile state. He would wait, perhaps he could stall for months, maybe even years.

She was to have weekly checkups with Aillun from now on, just to document her mental health. Nothing too significant had changed, only that she had appointments to attend each Thursday afternoon. Draco, despite making an effort to be more understanding, forbade her from leaving the Manor. It simply wasn't safe. The accident had shown him that much. When she tried to protest, he strictly told her the issue was not up for debate. They didn't speak of it again.

Luna was quieter now, but it was only to be expected.

The next few days went on per usual.

His mother spoiled Luna with even more care and attention than before, and quite frankly he was all right with it. Pansy was allowed back to visit, Draco admitted that it wasn't fair to push blame for what happened on her. She did her best to help Luna, and that was enough. With Daphne and Astoria out of the picture, there weren't many other girls Luna's age that could keep her company anyway.

"Good day?" Draco asked as he slung his jacket over the back of a chair. He returned home later than usual that evening, Harry Potter's tracks had gone cold. It was becoming more and more difficult to track him down. But after grueling hours of work, he only cared about right now was the woman standing in front of him. "How was the weather today in the garden?"

Luna insisted on having a picnic that morning. The sun was blazing and the house elves went into fits, desperately begging for her to return inside before she burned her skin. He almost laughed when Theo came into his office at the Ministry and told him about how Pansy spent hours convincing Luna to wear a hat.

She was already equipped for bed, her long, modest nightgown covering her whole. She was brushing her hair, a habit Narcissa suggested she take up to calm her nerves. But as soon as she saw Draco, her anxiety simply melted away.

"Wonderful," she said, back to her dreamy, singsong voice. She set her brush down onto the vanity, and approached him carefully. She went on her toes and reached up. She cradled the sides of his face in her hands, her thumbs barely touching the dark circles that had formed under his eyes. "You're tired," she mentioned endearingly.

"You're correct," He confirmed, amused by her eccentric perceptiveness. Wonders never ceased.

She kissed each of his eyes, like her lips would make them them less exhausted. He put a hand around her waist, just about to capture her lips and smother them with his, when a sharp burn came over his arm.

He hissed in pain, pulling away from her.

He covered it with his hand, clenching his teeth to deal with the sting. He should have been used to it now, but for some reason the pain seemed more prominent and intense each time. It felt like a fire was being held directly onto the surface of his skin. He closed his eyes, trying to decipher the message he'd been sent.

A loud pounding sounded on the door before he could do anything else. Lucius Malfoy strode in unannounced.

"I know," Draco didn't bother to look at his father, "I'll be down in a moment,"

The older man nodded, wordlessly exiting with nothing else to say.

Luna looked on at the exchange. Only one person could summon his subjects in such a manner, only one person could do so with that branding on Draco's arm. She knew that man was a part of their lives, but she never thought it would be so close.

"Be careful," she instructed meekly.

"I will," Draco walked over to his recently discarded jacket, shoving his arms through the sleeves in haste. He seemed off now, like something else was bothering him. He went up to her, holding both her shoulders in place. "Get yourself ready, we'll be leaving soon,"

She couldn't breathe.

"The Dark Lord has specifically requested that I bring my future bride with me tonight."

She couldn't move.

He guided her to the closet as she picked out an outfit Pansy had suggested she wear the next day. She guessed it would have been appropriate for tonight instead. She dressed with shaking hands, tying her hair up and taking Draco's hand as they headed down the stairs.

"Don't be scared, I'll be with you the entire time. No one can touch you."

Good Merlin. She was about to meet the darkest wizard who ever lived in the flesh.

**End Chapter 11**

A/N: Loads to take from this chapter. If you liked it, have any questions, or want me to continue, please leave me a review. Thank you for the support for this story recently, definitely boosted me to write more.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

They flooe'd that night.

Apparently apparation too dangerous a means of transportation for someone with as 'fragile' a state of health as Luna. She kept her mouth shut as Draco took her hand and helped her into the fireplace that sat in the foyer of the Manor.

Her future parents-in-law were already waiting for the young couple when they arrived downstairs, but only just to see them off. Draco and his bride alone had been summoned. That fact only made her more nervous. She was shaking furiously by the time Draco had followed her into the fireplace.

Draco exchanged an almost amused glance with his father before they left. He looked down endearingly at his fiancé who had at this point dug her fingers into his arm, practically clinging to his side. She could be so adorable at times. He wrapped a protective arm around her waist, and leaned down to place his lips on the top of her head. "Calm down, Luna. You're going to be fine,"

His words of assurance served a mere hollow comfort. She was about to come face to face with the wizard who committed genocide against his own race. She was about to meet the man whose crimes against humanity were incomparable to anyone else. She was about to meet Voldemort, and she was not going to be 'fine'.

"Wait," Narcissa stepped forward, holding a small vial of clear liquid out to them. "Luna, you need to take your draught before you leave. It'll help with your head,"

Luna was so caught up in everything, she'd forgotten about the pounding ache that assaulted the sides of her skull. She'd grown so accustomed to the pain. The petite blonde reached out, Draco's arm still around her middle to keep her steady as she retrieved the glass bottle. "Thank you,"

"You look wonderful," Narcissa commented while eyeing the conservative dress Luna had flung on moments earlier. "It never hurts to make a good first impression,"

"Enough," Lucius suddenly snapped at his wife. "They need to leave, now. We don't want to keep our Lord waiting,"

Narcissa's eyes fell to the ground at her husband's small outburst. If his shortness with her bothered her, she didn't show it. In a flash, she had placed the mask like smile she wore throughout the day back on. "Silly me," she smiled dryly, "Be on your way then,"

Luna never understood how such a lovely woman such as Narcissa had put up with someone like Lucius. A house elf retrieved the now empty bottle from Luna's hands. She was feeling a bit dizzy, the medicine always seemed to make her a little disoriented. She made a mental note to speak to Doctor Aillun about it later.

"Of course," Draco replied flatly, "Goodnight Mother," he hardened his tone as he tilted his chin down curtly, "Father," He didn't give them a chance to return his words before throwing a handful of Floo powder by the foot of the fireplace, murmuring an address of their destination.

After the momentary sensation of transportation had passed, Luna opened her scanned new surroundings frantically, though it didn't look all that different from the home they'd just left.

They had arrived in another mansion, constructed in medieval style. An enormous, fortress like set of iron doors were set out before them, likely being the main entrance to the building. The halls were dimly lit, but still extravagant. Dark, overreaching arches were carved almost everywhere, a single straight staircase leading to the second floor.

Draco walked in like he'd been there a thousand times, not even taking a second to blink. It was quiet, almost like no one else was around. In fact, there wasn't anyone else. The sound of Draco's shoes hitting the marble floor as he stepped down from the elevated fireplace echoed. He put his hands around her torso and lifted her down onto the ground.

She could feel her heart beating furiously against her chest. Now that the pain in her head had dulled, her chest was hurting. She put a hand to her heart, hoping to calm its pace. She took a deep breath. She looked up at the man beside her, he looked calm and unemotional as ever. It was rare for him to open up at all, but for some reason it was strange to see him with such a removed disposition. He grabbed her hand and began guiding her down the long hallway, she could feel the eyes of the portraits on the walls following her every move.

"Draco," She knew the day would come when she would have to meet the Dark Lord, Draco had mentioned it many times. She'd met with other Death Eaters who had also participated in wrongdoings before, but this was different. She felt the strength drain from her legs as she nearly collapsed.

Fortunately, like always, he was there to catch her. He sighed loudly as he steadied her. "You're afraid," he stated carefully. He spoke softly, like he was talking to a child. Luna could only nod as she held the side of her head. "I told you before, no one will touch you. You're mine,"

As if that gave all the answers in the world and made sense, she bobbed her head again. But she bit her lip, unsure of how to tell him. Maybe it wasn't too late to back out, "I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can face him," she tried to sound strong, but her voice broke halfway. "Don't make me do this, I just can't,"

This wasn't like the time she had dined with Death Eaters. This was their leader, the inhuman being who had waged genocide against his own race, he was the definition of pure eil.

"I understand, love." He hushed her as he brought his head down to place another kiss on her head. He then moved further to place a sweet peck on her lips. "But it'll be over before you know it. You can't get out of something like this, he's our Lord. You're going to have to meet him sometime,"

His kisses were toxic, they supplied a euphoria that was all too sinful. Countless concoctions had been brewed to cure her headaches and jumpiness nowadays, but their effectiveness would only pale in comparison to the way Draco made her feel. The numbness in her legs faded slightly as she regained some control and tried to prop herself back up.

Draco was right, this had been a long time coming. She'd signed her death warrant the day she fell in love with him.

"Such a good girl," he whispered deeply in her ear as he helped her stand up straight. "Come now," he took her hand again and continued walking where they had left off. She had to take rushed steps in order to keep up with his long strides.

She was concentrating on the tiling of the floor as they took down the path Draco effortlessly took. She realized that him being so high in ranking that he must have come here often to see the ring leader. They stopped after a few turns, arriving before a simple oak door.

Luna watched silently as Draco pulled out his wand and preformed an intricate unlocking spell. Once he was done, he deposited the wooden instrument back into his back pocket. He reached forward with his fist and hid his knuckles against the flat surface. A loud banging resonated through the air. By the time Draco had reached down to hold her hand again, the door had opened by itself.

As they entered, she shivered. The atmosphere was starkly colder in here than outside, chills ran down her arms. She was glad her dress tonight covered her knees and shoulders, otherwise she would have been freezing. She squeezed Draco's hand as they walked in.

"Draco, my boy," came a voice Luna couldn't recognize. Though she could sense the suffocating powerful presence in the room. Her delicately shaped eyebrows knitted together as she tried to figure out who was speaking, until her eyes landed on the figure near the back corner. He was reclining in a large leather seat, a glass of what appeared to be firewhiskey in his hand. "You were delayed," his harsh tone made her flinch.

This voice, though different, was still strangely familiar.

"We came across some minor complications on our way here," Draco's voice was somewhat strained.

The shadowed figure stood up, stepping forward into the light that the lone fire provided. Luna's eyes widened as she blinked several times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. If only it were just a simple mirage instead of the true image that she found far more daunting.

This wasn't Lord Voldemort. No it wasn't him at all.

As he came closer, she immediately brought the back of her free hand to cover her open mouth.

Draco was unfazed as he continued, "My wife, Luna Lovegood," he introduced.

The stranger was lean and tall, he looked not much older than Draco. His hair was almost black colored, slicked neatly to his head. His face was slim, with a pronounced jaw. Under any other circumstances, she might have deemed this man handsome. His eyes were what gave the resemblance away.

Orbs of deep blue, almost black.

This might not have been Voldemort, but it was still someone just as terrible.

"Ah, Miss Lovegood, I've heard much about you,"

She stiffened, grabbing tighter onto Draco's arm. If he noticed her grasp, he didn't show it. He looked straight ahead as he said, "Luna, I'd like you to meet Tom Riddle,"

Her blood ran cold, her hellish fear had been confirmed.

Tom Riddle.

She'd heard the name many times in the past. It belonged to a cunning, ambitious, darkly led boy who turned against his own kind and grew up to destroy any semblance of humanity that he was born with. She'd heard the name muttered under Harry's breath to Hermione or Ron, she'd read the name in one of her father's unpublished articles. She'd heard Ginevra Weasley scream the name in terror in her sleep ever since their first year at Hogwarts.

Despite the lapse in time occurring in her head, time seemed to continue without pause. The two males carried on as if nothing was wrong, in fact in their heads, there probably wasn't.

"You have exquisite taste, Draco." The dark haired man loomed dangerously close to them, he folded his arms behind as back as he approached them. Despite being rather attractive, there was still a snake like show to the way he moved. He surveyed her thoughtfully for a moment, "I assume you've run the necessary tests; she is fertile?"

"Yes," Draco answered straightly, "Pureblood legacy is one of my Lord's tenants, I would not like to disappoint your expectations,"

That statement made her uneasy. Aillun would run a number of examinations during her weekly physicals, she never really knew what he was really checking for.

"Good then, congratulations on your engagement. I received the ceremony invitation only this evening, I believe your mother will have outdone herself this time,"

"She would be happy to hear that,"

Luna looked at them in silence, her lips parted in due part from incredulity. They couldn't seriously be this familiar, or friendly with each other, could they? Draco had made it a point not to discuss politics with her, he knew it would make her uneasy. She in response was grateful for it, she had yet to adjust to the reality of circumstances she was under. But that weight of truth had just been served to her.

All of it was starting to fit together. Everyone was so quick to please Draco, no one defied his orders. It wasn't because of respect, or gratitude, it was fear. Fear of his closeness, his connection with the Dark Lord. He was higher ranked than anyone she had known before. She never thought of Voldemort having any confidantes, but apparently Draco must have been one of them.

"Wonderful choice in a partner,"

Luna froze as she found herself the center of conversation again. She could feel pairs of silvery grey and then maliciously black staring at her as Riddle continued. His words came out smooth¸ languid.

"She carries the necessary characteristics of a good natured, pureblooded bride." He paused as he surveyed her again, "Young, pretty, quiet, submissive." He paused then, his eyes slitting thinly, "You're aware of her past?"

He meant her history as a blood traitor.

She felt Draco's protective arm hold her closer, "She's been reformed," He made it sound like she'd been domesticated and groomed to become his wife. What made it hurt more was that she knew it was completely true, he'd broken her and she had been more than willing to comply these days. While her mind had armed itself with ammo of outrageous questions, he remained calm.

"Wonderful," Riddle's glare seemed to fade for a moment as he brought the glass of burning alcohol back up to his lips, "If only my little pet were as eager to obey,"

Pet?

Luna looked up at Draco, only to be met with his rigid profile. She felt him stiffen after listening to Riddle speak.

"Actually, I believe Miss Lovegood was quite good friends with my little Pet. Perhaps it would be a nice treat for both of them to catch up. Don't you think so, Draco?"

"Of course," he agreed dryly.

She was about to ask him what he had meant, when the doors she entered through creaked open once again. This time, they revealed a lonesome figure. She was rake thin, ghostly white, walking with a deep forward hunch. Her copper toned hair was flung over her face, her visage half covered.

That hair.

If Luna had been able to breathe earlier, she surely wouldn't have been able to now.

Red hair was a rare physical trait in the muggle world, and even more uncommon in the Wizarding one. Luna knew of only one family that possessed that same ginger shade of hair: the Weasleys.

In that moment, she forgot about Riddle, she might have almost forgotten about Draco. They just felt to disappear, all she was concentrated on was the girl who was newly present.

The fire in her once warm, brown eyes had died out; her lively eyes overflowing with seemingly undying defiance and independence had dulled. As her line of vision fell to the petite blonde, an old spark ignited again. The surprise on her lightly freckled face was obvious as she called out, "Luna?"

The pain potion she'd ingested had begun to wear off, the pain started to pound like a mallet against the inside of her head.

Riddle had been right, they _were _old friends. Or at least, they had been at one point.

They hadn't seen each other in ages. She was the only girl her age that Luna had found a friend in. Their close relationship had pulled farther apart after the War began for reasons beyond their control, but none of the seemed to matter anymore anymore. After months of being surrounded by slithering Slytherins, it was refreshing to see a familiar face.

Not that she was recognizable anymore.

"Ginny?" she whispered, she stepped forward, inclined to see if the woman in front of her was real.

Draco's grip restrained her in place. His hold was tight, he couldn't have her running reckless. His roughness surprised her. She watched as Riddle beckoned the redhead over. Luna thought she was seeing things when Ginny listened without hesitation, despite the look of pure repulsion on her face.

"She's quite beautiful as well, isn't she?" Tom's face twisted into a satisfied smirk as he caressed Ginny's face with the mock gentleness. She cringed while his hands ran down her neck,"I believe she's coming around slowly, don't you think Malfoy?"

"Yes," Draco agreed flatly, ignoring Luna's pleading looks. This was part of his job, he wouldn't allow his emotions to show, even if it was Luna that was begging him to. She was only left to look at his rigid profile and gape.

Riddle's didn't bother hiding his amusement with the circumstances before he broke the thick tension that had formed. "As nice as this social call has proceeded, I believe us men have real business to discuss. Why don't we let the ladies get reacquainted?"

Ginny gave no indication to acknowledge Luna's presence. It was as if her very soul had left her body.

Meanwhile, Luna eagerly awaited the prospect of privacy. Seeing as how uncomfortable Draco was already with Luna and Ginny being in the same room, it was safe to assume that he wouldn't have allowed her to exchange any words with her friend. What was Ginny doing here?

"Why don't you give me a kiss, darling?"

Luna watched in horror as Ginny followed through with the dark haired man's command without dissension. By the time Ginny had shakily pulled away from Riddle's lips, the couples were left to stare at one another. It was then that Luna realized they were all waiting for her to mimic the same loving antic with Draco.

Had he known that Ginny was there? Had he been keeping that a secret from her?

While she pondered Draco's openness with her, he took the opportunity to capture her lips without permission. She didn't pull away, but she didn't return the kiss.

Resistance was futile.

He wasn't surprised, of course he wasn't. He always knew what he was doing, he played for himself and no one else. He probably knew about all of this before they had arrived that evening. He whispered one last thing before following the Dark Lord after he took his leave.

"Don't do anything you'll regret, we'll speak of this when we get home,"

It wasn't as if she would dare to disobey.

As she watched the backs of the two handsome men slowly disappear. Her breath hitched as she thought about Tom Riddle, she froze in place.

Controlling, handsome, manipulative, with an imposing presence. He only had own interest in mind, willing to use any means to achieve his goals. Ambitious, condescendingly, dangerous: these were all words that could be used when describing the younger version of the Dark Lord.

She wondered why he scared her so much. But then she recognized the striking similarity.

He reminded her of Draco.

**End Chapter 12**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1992**

An eleven year old Luna wandered the corridors of the great castle alone, her light steps skillfully stepping over the cobblestone flooring of the school. She'd taken residence there for not only three months, yet she had memorized every crevice, every line of the building. It was past curfew, and she was on the lookout her stolen possessions. She'd made no friends in her own house, even Ravenclaws who were keen not to judge a book by a cover, had declared her medically insane. She was alienated and alone, but that didn't bother her.

It had become somewhat of a routine, to slip away from her house tower to explore on her own. But despite enjoying her privacy and time for self reflection, she secretly wished for a friend. Any companion would do. Her father had sheltered her from the world since her mother had tragically passed away, and she had hoped the Hogwarts would have provided ample opportunity to better her social life. She never planned to find just the opposite.

Luna sighed, eventually giving up on her expedition for her lost pair of shoes. She wiggled her sock covered toes which had remained well buried under the layered hems of her robes. She turned on her heel and began the path to return to her common room, when she heard it.

It was someone crying.

Not loud wails of agony, nor screams of sheer madness. Just soft, muffled, sobbing.

Without really thinking, she moved toward the source of the sound. It was difficult to decipher just where the sobbing was coming from, the campus was sleeping and otherwise silent. She made a turn at the corner of the hall, stopping in her tracks as she made contact with another.

Luna knew this girl, not in the sense of direct contact, but through reputation. The bright red hair and clan of infamous brothers, Ginny Weasley was not the type any student could go without hearing about. She was a first year, just like Luna, but sorted into Gryffindor. Sometimes Luna envied the large hearted lions, how much she wished for courage and bravery.

Ginny didn't appear as she used to in the halls, pining away after the equally was infamous, if not more so, Harry Potter. Luna didn't know much about that crowd, only that her father had warned her to stay away, not get mixed up into dangerous business. Right now, Ginny had curled into fetal position, her back against a cold wall, huddled and shivering. One of her hands covered her mouth to mute her crying, while the other was held palm out. She stared at her hand as if it had committed some terrible wrong.

"What have I done?" she croaked, which Luna had concluded was a private question aimed at no one in particular. Luna concealed herself behind the corner, not sure why she had decided to hide her presence.

"Why did you make me do it?" Ginny continued, "I didn't want to, why did you make me?" Her words were nearly inscrutable, difficult to make out between her fit of hiccups.

It was then that Luna noticed the small, worn, leather bound journal that lay by the other girl's feet. Luna's intuition sensed the dark magic that poured from the object, it made a prickling chill run down her back.

Luna then took the moment to step out of the enclave she'd hidden herself in. She instinctively approached the trembling girl. Luna calmly kneeled by Ginny's side, ignoring the incredulous and surprised expression on her face, and patted her back. It was awkward, but the good intentions were sent.

It dawned on Ginny what was happening, like she'd snapped out of a trance. She immediately sat up straight and grabbed the book next to her shoes. She held the diary close to her chest, narrowing her eyes at the crazily level headed, barefooted girl next to her. She didn't bother asking why she was out past curfew, she didn't want to have to explain why she was out either.

"Who is it?"

"What?"

"Who is it, the person who made you do it?" Luna wasn't quite sure what she was asking, only that perhaps the question would help her better understand the situation at hand. She had no expectation of becoming friends with Ginny. Ginny was popular amongst their peers, and well Luna, wasn't.

Ginny tried to compose herself, but was at a loss for words. She pursed her lips before opening them, only to shut them tight again. She shook her head, locks of straight copper following the motions of her neck. Luna continued to pat the girl's back. Her mother used to do it to Luna when she was still alive, it felt nice.

"Just someone I know," Ginny breathed deeply, "His name is Tom,"

Luna didn't recognize the name. But then again, she had yet to witness the horrifics of the War and world that was to emerge over the next ten years. She bobbed her head tentatively, trying to decode the message in her words, only to come to a dead halt before figuring it out.

"What does he make you do?" she inquired quietly. Maybe it was inappropriate to ask, even at this age, Luna had acknowledged her lack of a verbal filter. She only managed to say what came to mind, her honesty oftentimes times translated into callous bluntness.

"He wants me to help him," Ginny explained carefully, still entirely taken aback as to why she felt she could confide in this stranger. Perhaps it was the circumstances of time and dreadful emotion, perhaps it was just Luna herself. They would never know.

"Help him with what?"

The conversation was slow, with a curious blonde prying further through curiosity, and a terrified redhead spilling her secrets without even realizing.

It was their first exchange, and at the time Luna had not even known it. But they had just discussed something larger than either of them could imagine.

"He wants me to help him achieve immortality,"

They would never have known how close Riddle would be to his goal less than a decade later.

**-p-**

**Riddle Mansion, 2000**

Ginny had always been haunted by Tom's presence. Her family had sent her to specialists, but she had refused all types of treatment. After Harry had destroyed the diary, she tried to make herself believe that Tom could never touch her, harm her, speak to her again.

Seven years later, he hadn't really achieved immortality, but he had certainly attained something close. Eternal youth, was it? How else could he have looked the way he did?

Luna and Ginny had been alone for nearly ten minutes now, and neither of them had spoken a word.

Anxiety won over Luna, her initial want to greet her once close friend had wholly evaporated. Only the feeling of disgust and shame fell in the pit of her stomach. "Why does he look like that?" she asked.

Ginny's head was down as she fiddled with her hands in her lap, both girls sat on a lavishly cushioned couch on the far end of the room. A fireplace was burning, but they couldn't have felt chillier. Ginny bit her bottom lip as she refused to look at her friend's eyes.

"Ginny," Luna tried to get her attention and reached over to give her hands a planted squeeze, "How did you get here?" She remembered how Ginny had obeyed Tom's every word, every command. It was like that first night in Hogwarts when she found her strewn apart in the hallway. Luna didn't even want to imagine the terrors Ginny had suffered to succumb to such a submissive state. A whirlwind of questions assaulted her conscious as she tried to form a coherent sentence. "What did he do to you?" she whispered.

Ginny showed no signs of answering, seemingly lost in gazing down at her hands. Luna followed her gaze, shocked by what she found. It was a ring, diamond and metal, though a different cut and style, an engagement ring nonetheless. Right above it sat the plain band that signified a done and sealed union.

She would have commented, had it not been for the rock weighing down on her finger as well. She absently twisted the jewelry, suddenly unsure of what to say around someone she had at one point been so comfortable around.

But today, the circumstances were different. They both understood that, and neither of them wanted to be the first one to point it out.

"Dark Magic," Ginny said straightly, no emotion filling her cold toned voice, "When someone wields the kind of power he does, they can do whatever they want." She spoke like she was talking to a wall, no inflection, no rise or fall to her tone.

"Ginny," Luna just wanted the redhead to look at her, it was difficult to believe this was the same girl. Ginny was confident, pretty, just perfect. She was constantly surrounded by a family that loved her, friends that would die for her, people that adored her. Even with Luna's celestial beliefs in the universe's workings, she sometimes still found herself jealous.

"They found me, after Harry died. I didn't care anymore, I didn't even try to put up a fight when they captured me. I thought they were going to kill me, and I wanted them to do it,"

A pang went through Luna's chest. Everyone was a mess after Harry had sacrificed himself, but his death must have hit Ginny the hardest. It was no secret that the Weasley girl was head over heels for Harry, sometimes Luna wondered why they never became an official couple. Luna shuddered as she thought of how she would react if Draco suddenly ceased to exist. She bit back her fear as she opened her mouth.

"Ginny," Luna said again, her voice thick with disbelief, "You don't know?"

A pause. Again, no sign of acknowledgment.

That was, until Luna continued.

"He survived the fight," she lowered her volume, the weight of her words burdensome. "Harry's still alive,"

In an instant, the spark of brown eyes ignited. Ginny's dull complexion suddenly brightened, her eyes wide as she turned the tables and was the one to grab Luna's hands enthusiastically. Luna almost smiled, the feeling of seeing her friend's light alive gave her a sense of familiarity she wasn't accustomed to. But the moment was short lived, as Ginny's lips turned down into a frown. An expression of spite and hatred was shot.

"He put you up to this, didn't he?" she accused contemptuously, "I'm not falling for it, I won't," she shook her head like a defiant child, "Not again, I won't,"

"What's wrong?" She thought Ginny would have been more excited, unsure why such hostility was pointed at her.

"Don't," Ginny ripped her hands away, she hissed and hurled what they both knew she meant as an insult, "You're one of them now, aren't you?"

It was like a thousand pins had struck her at once, but she was so numb with pain she couldn't feel a thing.

"You let Malfoy brainwash you Luna, you let him win. You promised to protect Harry, but you watched him march to his death,"

No, never. That was never even a possibility. She loved Harry, he was her friend, she would never let him die. But was that what she had done?

"I'm some kind of sick trophy, a prize to humor the Dark Lord in his success," she laughed humorlessly, she raised her hand, showcasing the burdensome gem on her finger. It sparkled even in the dim light. "I'm bound to that monster forever,"

Luna's eyes automatically flew to her own ring. How something so beautiful could represent something so twisted.

"Dark Magic," Ginny repeated ominously, "It's what dictates these medieval pureblood marriages. The power a husband can have over his wife, it's terrifying,"

That was something Luna never considered. She'd read something about old unions between wizards and witches in her history textbooks, but never paid them much attention. It wasn't like there was substantial evidence to back any of the accusations of old practices anyway. If people thought pureblooded elite liked to keep their secrets under wraps, it was taken to another level in modern times. Besides, such things were outdated, weren't they?

The redhead then leaned in closer so she could whisper into her ear, "You need to get away, do it before it's late."

It was like a broken record. They'd all told her to stay away from Draco since the first moment they'd found out about their relationship. The hatred from Ginny's eyes had disappeared, now only something resembling genuine concern and desperation was visible.

"I know you're engaged, but real marriage is another thing. Believe me this time," she was stern, "He's hiding the truth from you, he's just waiting to tell you when you can't do anything about it,"

Luna didn't want to admit it, but Ginny's words had merit. She just knew it did.

"Tom's broken me, it's too late for me,"

_Too late_. What did that even mean?

"Don't let Malfoy do the same to you,"

Something told Luna this was the last warning she was ever going to get. Just as she parted her pale lips to inquire an better explanation, two dark presences reappeared.

"Now, now, darling," Riddle's unforgettably languid voice trailed up behind them, "Let's not deny the Draco the pleasure of describing the entails of proper consummation and marriage. After all, it's just good fun for the groom to demonstrate himself, no?" Luna watched from the corner of her eye as Riddle's hand clamped down on Ginny's shoulder. He leaned down to whisper into the redhead's neck, "It was an experience between you and I that you'll never forget, right?"

"Of course," Ginny spoke almost a little too anxiously. She hung her head in evident shame. "I apologize,"

He laughed.

Luna didn't turn around, but she could then sense Draco take his respective place behind her. She didn't know how, but she could practically feel him seething.

"I believe this was a wonderful time spent, I'm sure the ladies enjoyed their own conversation," Riddle's tone told them he was directing his words towards Draco now, "Your company was a pleasure,"

"Thank you for your patronage," Draco cleared his throat, "But I'm afraid it's time we get back home. The doctor has put my wife on strict orders, she needs her rest,"

He made it sound like she was some sick puppy that needed to be nursed back to health.

"Ah, yes," The Dark Lord paused, "Then you're dismissed,"

At this point, Luna was disoriented. Her confrontation with Ginny was unprecedented, then the two males' unannounced appearances had taken her off guard. She kept her lips pressed together as she Draco pulled her to her feet, catching her waif like frame in his arms as she threatened to collapse onto the ground. Her unbearable headache had returned, its merciless assault impairing her ability to walk independently.

She didn't even dare look up at Draco as he helped her to the exit.

But Luna did turn her head before the door closed, only catching a glimpse of the other couple. Both Tom Riddle and Ginny were looking at her.

Riddle looked amused, like he knew something she didn't.

Ginny looked scared, helpless to aid her friend.

By the time they returned home, neither Draco or Luna had said a word to one another. His parents were probably asleep by the time they arrived back, Draco shouted an order in a random direction to beckon a house elf to fetch another potion for Luna's head.

He didn't spare her a single glance before he guided her upstairs into the privacy of their room. She could feel his gaze even through the dimness of the room, it was suffocating.

"What did that Weasley girl tell you?" he wasted no time in easing into their discussion.

To be honest, Luna wasn't even sure if she had knew how to answer that questions.

"Ginny?" it then occurred to Luna that she was the one entitled to hold an interrogation this time. She stood with her shoulders squared, "Why was Ginny there?"

She swore he narrowed his eyes.

She took a deep breath, "How long did you know she was being held hostage?" her breathing got heavier as she awaited his response.

Draco suddenly got defensive, his body language tensing. She watched as his shadow got closer to her, she instinctively retreated. She gasped as her back hit a wall, she was trapped.

"She's not a hostage, she's his wife," he stopped, "Just like you're my wife,"

Luna then made a point to struggle with her ring, only having her efforts to validate much of what Ginny had said before.

"Why doesn't my ring come off?"

Draco only closed the gap between them, his chest pushing her body further into the wall. He glowered at her, his hand grabbing hers to stop her from touching the ring.

"I won't ask you again, Luna. What did she tell you?"

**End Chapter 13**

A/N: Hope you liked it, thanks for reading! If you want me to continue, please leave a review!**  
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	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Luna stared lifelessly at her reflection, delicately surveying her hollowed cheeks and close to gaunt complexion. Her long hair had been tied perfectly into an intricate design, her painted lips impeccable, her appearance faultless. She didn't look down to her hand, but she remembered what was resting nicely on her finger.

After last night, she would never forget what it symbolized, the magic that bound that beautiful jewel to her hand.

Draco had gone berserk, completely mental. She wished he could have controlled his temper, maybe bitten back his harsh sneers and sharp comments. He'd asked her what Ginny had discussed while he and the Dark Lord were out of the room. She had pointedly avoided answering, because she already knew that he knew. Draco knew everything about her, he knew more about everything than everyone. He didn't deserve an explanation from her own lips, he just wanted her to confirm something he already understood.

So she asked him about the ring, countering him with meager defiance. It hurt when Ginny had called her one of them. While Luna knew she had allowed Draco to manipulate her rather easily, she didn't realize the extent she had let it slip to. She was like a doll, dressed pretty and controlled without question.

He seemed to get angrier and angrier with every inquiry over the ring. He didn't cave in until he got impatient of hearing her ask.

Dark Magic, Ginny had said. Dark Magic.

Draco preferred to describe it as Old Magic instead, a tradition passed down with the heirloom of an engagement ring. If Luna had ever wondered why Narcissa was so submissive around Lucius, her curiosity was quickly turned over. Men had ultimate control over their wives, it was expected for women of the upper crust to act with a certain dignity. If they dare step out of line, it was the responsibility of a husband to discipline.

Discipline. That word couldn't begin to hold the same definition.

It was an effortless, wandless power that the ring gave. He hadn't specified exactly what the ring could do, but Luna had a couple of guesses. Could it pinpoint her location? Could it track her? Could it hurt her?

After seeing the terrified expression of pure horror on her face, Draco had rubbed his temple tiredly. He tried to hand her a sleeping potion, saying that she was acting absurdly because of her headache. If she was being truthful, he was the source of her migraine. He was so hard to figure out, it was beginning to scare her.

She'd denied him the satisfaction of taking the potion. She'd silently shook her head, wordlessly climbing into bed and pulling the covers of her head. She could sense his presence hesitate, debate whether or not to follow her actions. She breathed with relief as she heard his steps walk away, the door closing behind him.

Just when she and Draco had been getting to a point of regularity, reality would come whirling overhead and knock her three steps back. She hadn't been able to rest that night, after all, by the time they had returned to Malfoy Manor, the sun had already begun to rise.

Feeling that there was nothing else but to climb off the mattress and wake up, Luna shakily prepared for the day. Pansy was supposed to be coming back to the mansion with another wedding dress sample. The blonde closed her eyes, as if she'd just taken another internal blow.

Who would've thought that she'd end up like this. Engaged to a Slytherin, about to marry into the Malfoys, close friends with Pansy Parkinson. How much she longed to have component of her old life back. She didn't have her wand, she didn't have her old companions, she wasn't allowed to have her own opinions. She didn't even look like herself.

She counted five deep breaths before she lifted her eyelids, properly examining her features. She looked older, probably only because she felt as if she had aged a decade overnight. She'd clung to her childish hopefulness for so many years in the face of darkness, yet somehow her soul was showing signs of surrender. There was only so much one girl could take.

She loved Draco, he loved her. Straightforward, simple, that was all she wanted. Fate just had other plans.

A sudden knock on the door sounded, signaling someone's arrival. She could tell it wasn't Draco, she would've recognized his footsteps a mile away. Whoever it was, didn't bother to wait for her response before turning the knob and stepping through the entrance.

She didn't have to turn her head, seeing the aged physician through the reflection of the glass before her. She thought for a moment, thinking if there had been a scheduled appointment today. She bit her bottom lip, it was becoming more apparent how forgetful she was becoming.

"Good morning," Doctor Aillun greeted unenthusiastically, already busying himself with equipment. He walked grumpily, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door.

There were routine checkups. It was the same thing every time. Luna didn't need to be instructed as she turned around and walked to sit on the edge of the bed. She turned her forearm out toward the short statured man, waiting patiently for him to begin.

"Awfully quiet today, aren't we?" he didn't look up at her as he commented on her uncharacteristic silence. He gripped his wand, tapping it on the place opposite of her elbow. Luna winced slightly as a dull pain shot through her arm. After he finished, he looked up at her expectedly, a furry grey eyebrow raised. He was used to her trying to strike a conversation with him first thing when he walked into a room. He might have been old, but he could spot an anomaly when he saw one.

That made her smile. It was a demure, small, almost unnoticeable curve to her lips, but she smiled. Aillun was unusually friendly, it was nice. "Just a bit tired, Doctor. How are you?"

He only grunted in acknowledgement as he pulled his wand away to wipe its tip. He didn't make it explicit, but she could see the slight bit of relief in his body language. He'd grown quite fond of his patient, though she was far more talkative than the other Malfoys, he found her the most tolerable.

He then motioned for her to sit up straight as he preformed some standard examination spells. It occurred to Luna she never asked what he'd been checking for. She thought of what Tom Riddle had asked Draco.

"Am I fertile?"

It sounded stranger out of her mouth, but it was the first thing in her head. She wasn't the type to filter questions for the sake of embarrassment. Her bluntness was a part of her identity she'd managed to maintain through everything. At least Aillun wasn't the type to point out such a social gall. In fact, he found her emboldened question to be amusing.

"Yes, for now," he responded stoically, careful not give any emotional additive. "But you need to be careful. You're state of health is still unstable, and you need to rectify your weight,"

A stab to the chest. With everything that was going on, it had been so difficult to keep track of her diet. She'd been careless in skipping entire meals, only forcing bites of food down her throat when she felt as if she was going to pass out.

"If you're hoping to conceive after your marriage is consummated, then I advise you begin a healthier bride regimen. Young girls today and their craze to look like a bag of bones at their wedding reception is beyond me,"

Another stab to her heart, this one more direct, more concentrated. Her wedding, she didn't even know how far away that was. She'd left all the planning in Narcissa's hands, for all she knew her honeymoon could begin next week.

"What if I wasn't?"

"Pardon?" his jaded, wise eyes peered at her. She was sitting, and he was standing, at this point, they were at the same eye level.

She opened her mouth, closing it a moment later. Maybe she didn't want to know what would happen if she couldn't produce children. It was obviously out of the question for the elite Malfoy family to be without an heir. Tom Riddle made it clear he wouldn't have approved of their matrimony. Riddle seemed like the type to only appreciate women for their child birthing purposes. She shivered as she thought of Ginny, how subdued she'd become. What had Riddle done to her fiery friend?

"Nothing," Luna forced a wider smile, she fingered a stray lock of golden hair nervously and averted her gaze.

"Your husband is quite concerned about you,"

She froze at the mention of Draco. He was probably still upset with her, and that was never welcome news.

Perhaps she should try to play off what happened last night as nothing, she didn't want to drag Aillun into something he wouldn't want to bother with. "Is he?" she said at last.

"He insisted I come more often to evaluate your health, said you weren't taking all of your potions. That boy even ordered me to prescribe you even more concoctions to ease your nerves,"

She watched through the corner of her eyes as he took out a single piece of parchment and a single white quill from his briefcase. "There's nothing I can give you that's formulated to ease an anxious girl's mind before her marriage, but the headaches I can try. How are they, is the pain improving?"

"Yes," Luna lied. She didn't want to give the doctor more trouble, she was probably a handful of a case to take care of anyway.

He made it clear he didn't believe her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he clicked his tongue. "Alright then," he folded the paper in hair, tucking it under his arm as he stepped back.

At that moment, Luna heard the distinct sound of high stilettos hitting the floor down the hallway. She recognized the shoes immediately. Her predictions were confirmed when a pretty brunette walked in excitedly.

"Luna, are you ready?" she called in, a wide grin across her flawlessly tanned face. Her expression dropped as she realized Aillun's presence. "I'm sorry," she apologized, taking a step back so she was back outside of the doorway, "I didn't realize you were having a checkup,"

Luna was about to tell Pansy it was okay, when Aillun cut her off. He closed his briefcase, standing up and tilting his chin down stiffly while making eye contact. He stood up as straight as he could, and turned toward the door. He promptly shoved the piece of paper he'd written Luna's medication down on, into Pansy's hands.

Pansy looked flustered, like Luna had never seen her. She looked intimidated too. "Thank you," she quickly uttered.

"Make sure she eats something," he muttered before pushing past the dark haired girl and heading out. Both women listened to his disappearing footsteps.

Luna hopped off the side of the bed, walking to Pansy.

"Do you have any idea who that was?"

"Doctor Aillun?"

"_The_ Doctor Aillun," Pansy corrected, a trance of disbelief still waiting to pass. She looked starstruck, "He's the most brilliant physician in the wizarding world. But he's got this nasty reputation as a grouch, isn't he horrid? I heard he basically hates anyone he treats,"

Luna was confused, that didn't seem like Aillun. Though he wasn't the most outgoing, he wasn't malicious towards her.

"But he'll come in handy, he's got some expertise. I heard Draco and Theo talking the other night, it must be nice to have a Doctor you've had all your life, isn't it?"

All her life, what did she mean?

"What?"

Pansy paused, looking like she'd said something she hadn't. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"That Doctor Aillun was your physician as a baby, he was the one in charge of your birth when your mother was pregnant,"

Again, what?

"What's wrong, Luna?"

Why did it feel like everyone was asking her that nowadays? It was the worst question anyone could have posed, because despite her optimistic outlook, she could never help but think: What _wasn't_ wrong?

**-p-**

Luna never really knew her mother. She knew it wasn't something that someone would have wanted to admit, but it was the truth. Sometimes she would close her eyes before falling asleep, and try to remember the woman who had brought her into this world.

She remembered a few things, but not much.

The image of a with blue eyes dancing in the middle of their living room with her father stained her memory the most. Her parents were holding each other close, moving together without music. Xenophilious Lovegood adored his wife, and she loved him too.

Another was her mother braiding Luna's hair. She'd told the younger girl how she wished she could take credit for passing down more physical traits onto her. Luna remembered turning around, and grabbing small handful of blonde hair on her mother's head, and declaring how alike they were. She didn't know what her mother was saying, they looked identical.

Her mother was quieter than her outspoken father and daughter. She was calm, her presence so soothing. Despite her hidden disposition, she liked to experiment greatly with magic. Dangerous new spells she invented would be tested on a daily basis. There was an old shed back out behind their house that Luna's father had built from scratch. It was a small building with stacks of paper and jars overflowing with unknown herbs.

It was in that shed that Luna had her last memory of her mother.

Luna had been just a girl of nine, freshly dressed in a bright purple jumper and vividly yellow socks. Her golden hair had been brushed and thrown over her shoulders. She sat on the edge of a high table that laid on the perimeter of the octagonal tower like room. The weather that day was beautiful, the sun was shining, a nice breeze brushed on her face through the open windows.

Her father was in the house, finishing up another article for the magazine when it happened.

There was a steady beat to which Luna swung her legs to as she watched her mother spread out her research in the middle of the empty floor. She'd seen it a million times, her mother picking up her wand and casting a spell that would either make her mother exclaim in excitement or create a small explosion. The latter was closer to what had unfolded this time, only it wasn't a small spark, or a simple explosion.

Luna didn't recall the moment, it happened so fast, so slow, all at the same time. One moment her mother had flicked her wrist, the next she was laying cold on the ground. Her death had been instantaneous. There was no writhing body, there was no scream, just a light thud on the ground and the rustle of papers in the wind. Luna had just walked up to her mother, no tears, no cries.

A nine year old girl, that was all Luna had been. She kneeled next to the limp body, embracing it tightly in her tiny arms. She might have asked aloud to her mother to wake up, but the truth had blurred over the years of trying to forget. She just ran her fingers through her mother's hair, whispering something about how alike her hair was to her own. Next thing she knew, her father had run out alarmed. His reaction was on a polar end of hers. He began to wail, a grown man, wailing while his child daughter made no audible sound.

She'd never seen her father cry before.

Because of that, she never cried that day.

Since then, she'd tried to comfort her father, help him stop wailing. Her father grew more and more protective, keeping her away from the outside world, holing himself up in his office to write more conspiracy thoughts in the Quibbler. She became his rock of support. He turned into a hermit within himself, unconsciously forcing his daughter to do the same. She picked up on his theories and peculiarities. After her mother's death, they grew closer together.

When it came time for her to enroll in Hogwarts, he was reluctant to let her leave. But she left anyway, she missed him greatly. Throughout the entirety of her adolescence, she'd been so preoccupied by thoughts of her father, that she never really had the energy to remember.

But one mention of Aillun, and how he treated her mother before Luna's birth. It was so out of the blue, to think that her mother would have been mentioned in such unreal context. That was all it took to break the dam loose, years of bottled up emotion, pent up restraint, all of it came rushing forward.

**-p-**

When Draco returned that evening from work, he'd been expecting an unwelcome greeting. He was expecting a hostile argument just as he had left it before.

He wasn't expecting a frail girl to run into his arms. Especially since she had been so adamant on being cross with him last night. He'd been so surprised at first, he just dropped his discarded jacket, and hugged her. He repeatedly ran his hand up and down the small of her back, kissing her forehead and temple without pausing.

She wasn't making any noises, but her could feel his the front of his shirt moisten with tears. She felt her hands cling to the fabric of his shirt.

Luna couldn't take it anymore. It was exhausting, fighting with him, there was always some altercation, some issue between them. She just wanted his comfort, she just wanted the security of his presence again. She didn't care that Draco might have known about everything all along.

They didn't exchange words that night.

Somehow he just knew what to do. He didn't ask her what was wrong.

He knew she didn't want to fight, he knew she just wanted him to hold her tightly, he knew she just wanted him to be there in the moment.

For one night at least, they would forget about everything. He would just concentrate on comforting her, helping her through whatever was going on.

For one night.

Because they both knew tomorrow would bring hell.

**End Chapter 14**

A/N: So, what did you think? This new direction was highly debated, but I decided to go through with it? How do you guys feel about Luna's mother? Please leave a review if you want me to continue.

Thanks for reading!**  
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	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_"Oh my God," _

Hermione struggled for a breath as the severity of the scene kneeling before her sunk in

She'd been against him leaving from the start, but of course that didn't stop him. Little Miss Know It All would always know best, and now look what happened.

He was hunched over, one hand painfully clutching his lower abdomen as his other arm attempted to prop his weight against the door frame. His eyewear, just like the first time they met, were broken down the middle, taped together with a piece of tape.

He was always so careless with his glasses, but that was just Harry.

He was always deemed the Gryffindor golden boy, morally upright with a strong sense of honor and justice, forever willing to put his life down for what he believed in. His celebrity status paired with his prophesized destiny did him no favors in attracting true companionship; he was still the best friend she could have ever asked for.

"What happened to you?" she felt the words slip from her lips as she rushed forward and slung his limp arm around her shoulder. She didn't know why she asked, she knew the answer anyway.

It was winter in Bulgaria, heavy, wet snow coming down in heaps. The frigid air bit her skin as she picked the dark haired man out of the white ice. Harry seemed barely conscious of his surroundings, groggily murmuring something as she led him inside.

He was heavier than her, but she managed to drag him into the small cottage. It was amazing he had located their headquarters in such conditions, she had conjured a masking spell to keep the unwanted hunters out. After all, Harry Potter was Undesirable No. 1.

Ron had left earlier that week to check in with the rest of his family, the Weasleys had broken down after their youngest daughter had gone missing. Harry's blatant lack of concern for Ginny's disappearance infuriated his redheaded best friend, creating a rift in their relationship. The tear only deepened as Harry went out to search for a certain eccentric blonde instead.

It wasn't really a secret anymore, Harry's affections for Luna Lovegood. But the way Harry never broke it off with his girlfriend and the way Ginny sort of just passed his longing for another woman off as nothing, endlessly puzzled those around them. Hermione analyzed the intricate web of crossed and twisted lovelines, and wished she could have stayed out of it all. She sympathized with Ginny, who loved someone who would never return her feelings wholeheartedly. If only brilliance could have saved Hermione from the same fate, from longing after the same man.

He saw her as a friend, he never would have considered her anything else.

"Hermione," he grunted through shut eyes, he was laying on the couch near the modest fireplace in the living room. The crackle of the flames was the only solace to the unbearable silence.

The brunette sat on the edge of the sofa, a towel soaked in warm water in hand. She wrung the cloth over a small pail and folded it into a small rectangle before placing it gingerly over his forehead. Her wild, childhood mane of bushy hair had been pulled back into a hasty low bun. She looked sick with worry, but nothing at all like Harry did. He was stirring in his light slumber, his eyebrows knit together, his hands shaking as he continued to mutter incoherent phrases under his breath.

Neville had left only yesterday, he'd insisted on searching for Harry. Hermione would have gone with him, but with Ron away, someone needed to man the cottage in case Harry came back on his own. Seeing now, it had been a good decision on her behalf.

Hermione gently brushed his dark bangs off his forehead, soothing the warm towel over his forehead. She'd healed the wound to his side the best she could. She shook her head disapprovingly, he'd been shot with a multitude of curses. He'd already sustained serious injuries from his battle with Voldemort, it was miracle he was still alive after all of this.

His hand suddenly shot up from the blankets she'd wrapped him in, he grabbed her wrist. She gasped sharply, but relaxed as she saw his eyes were still closed.

"I couldn't save her, Hermione," he croaked, "I couldn't save her," he repeated miserably.

She would've only guessed it so.

She was the brightest witch of her generation, it wasn't like she hadn't seen it coming. Luna, as sweet a girl as she was, had been helplessly in love with a dark man.

Love, it seemed, could dictate anything regardless of where one's loyalties were tied. Love, it seemed, was stronger than any other force in existence.

Hermione loved Ron, she did. But there was only so strain that could push a relationship, she didn't doubt that Ronald had felt the same. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had noticed her fleeting glances at their scarred friend.

Love, it seemed, was more complicated than anyone would have liked it to be.

She pressed her lips together tightly as she took his hand, hushing him asleep. His pain was her pain, his angst and suffering was her own. She hated seeing him like this, because she couldn't do anything to make it go away.

Love, it seemed, was the most unrelenting of curses.

**-p-**

Draco decided to stay home that day, it only seemed right. Besides, the Dark Lord seemed satisfied on his own without his company.

Something was off with Luna, he could sense it.

"Is everything all right, Luna?" Narcissa called over to her daughter in law across the long breakfast table. An extravagant assortment of pastries and meal choices were spread across its length, house elves scampering in the background to make accommodations for their masters.

Round, glazed over blue eyes blinked blankly for a moment, as if caught off guard. She'd heard Narcissa, but didn't answer.

"Luna," Draco addressed seriously, his eyes directed at his fiancé. She sat to his side, no more than a couple of feet away. "Luna," he said again, this time with a hint of concern.

A pregnant tension swallowed the room, only the footsteps of elves echoing through toward the large ceiling.

"Luna, dear," Narcissa leaned in, laughing nervously. "Are you alright?"

"Luna," Draco had risen from his seat now, he took tentative steps toward the girl. He put his hand over her smaller one that rested on the table next to her untouched plate. "Luna, can you hear me?"

The petite woman gave no indication of response, she just sat there staring aimlessly at the air in front of her, her lips slightly parted, her head tilted at a short angle.

A loud clatter of silverware and shattering dishes sounded. A house elf had clumsily tripped over its own feet, falling face first onto the marble floor, the contents it held in its arms following shortly. The creature screeched an ungodly noise, jumping up and snapping its fingers to clean the mess it had made. The elf was shouting apologies, shielding its face with waving arms as if trying to defend from an incoming blow.

Draco's jaw clenched in annoyance, he turned his back to reprimand the idiotic servant before a soft arm came to his forearm and held him back.

"Draco?" she said quietly.

He turned instinctively to face her, realizing that the cacophony of noise had brought her back into consciousness. A small smile graced her tired features, "Are you okay?"

Only he and his mother could feel the irony of her words.

Draco nodded stoically, as he brushed a stray wave of golden hair and placed it behind her ear. He bent down, placing a kiss on her temple.

"I'm fine," he answered, "But I think it best if we make another appointment with Aillun, yeah?"

"Of course," Luna agreed airily. It was the same light, whimsy tone she always carried, but for some reason, it felt ominously dead.

She wasn't built for this kind of life.

She was pure, childlike, trusting, naïve.

His blood was the only thing pure about him, he'd been forced to grow up abruptly and instantaneously, he didn't even trust his own parents, and he'd not only witnessed the darker sides of life, but paved the way to allow them to happen.

She wasn't built for him. He knew that, but he wouldn't let her go.

He waited with his arms crossed as Aillun preformed another routine appointment, he could tell that the older man was becoming irritated with the numerous house calls. Had Luna actually been visibly ill, Aillun wouldn't have minded. It was simply the fact that there was nothing identifiably wrong with her that irked him.

She was his, and he could do anything to make sure she stayed his.

"Stress and exhaustion,"

"And?" Draco pressed.

"That's it," Aillun stated simply, packing his materials and snapping the clasps to his briefcase. "I'm telling you children now that you worry too much, in my day doctor's were only called in dire situation when someone was withering away on their death bed,"

The tall, lean man pinched the straight bridge of his nose, hoping to relieve the inevitable headache he was coming to heads with. Serving Lord Voldemort was never this difficult.

"But I would like to speak to you privately, for a moment," Aillun requested in a low voice, he turned to see Luna who was lounging in bed again, her eyes closed, her breathing steady. "We should probably leave her to rest,"

Silvery eyes narrowed in suspicion, but agreed nonetheless as he followed the shorter man out of the room and down the hallway. The pair made their way down the stairs and into the foyer. They stopped in front of the main entrance.

Aillun cleared his throat as Draco waited impatiently.

"I didn't want to mention this in front of your wife, with all of the emotional stress she's going through I don't think it best to mention news like to her until she becomes more stable,"

"What is it? Is it something with her eating habits?" Her lack of consumption had been a concern, but nothing too far for him to be extremely upset over.

"No, though that's something we should work on if you decided to keep it,"

"Keep what?"

"Congratulations, I'm sure the Dark Lord will welcome the news. Though I'm sure your mother will have to make the appropriate accommodations before the wedding, perhaps the date will need to be pushed forward,"

"What are you talking about?"

"She's pregnant,"

Now she would really would be his forever.

**End Chapter 15**


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